Now this is very profound, what rhythm is, and goes far deeper than words. A sight, an emotion, creates this wave in the mind, long before it makes words to fit it.

Writing is still like heaving bricks over a wall.

No need to hurry. No need to sparkle. No need to be anybody but oneself.

At 46 one must be a miser; only have time for essentials.

Anything may happen when womanhood has ceased to be a protected occupation.

The depths of the sea are only water after all.

The world is crammed with delightful things