“I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my eyes and all is born again.”

I woke to the sound of rain.

I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.

I like people too much or not at all. I’ve got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know them.

It is awful to want to go away and to want to go nowhere.

I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.

I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery – air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, This is what it is to be happy.

Life has been some combination of fairy-tale coincidence and joie de vivre and shocks of beauty together with some hurtful self-questioning.

See, the darkness is leaking from the cracks. I cannot contain it. I cannot contain my life.

What I fear most, I think, is the death of the imagination.

A man’s world is different from a woman’s world and a man’s emotions are different from a woman’s emotions and only marriage can bring the two different sets of emotions together properly.

What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.

Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.

The hardest thing, I think, is to live richly in the present, without letting it be tainted and spoiled out of fear for the future or regret for a badly-managed past.

So much working, reading, thinking, living to do! A lifetime is not long enough.

Eternity bores me, I never wanted it.

Intoxicated with madness, I’m in love with my sadness.

I always knew who I was and where I had come from. I was not looking for a home in other people’s lands.

It is to be remarked that a good many people are born curiously unfitted for the fate waiting them on this earth.

The moment you were born, your presence was validated. You don’t need a second opinion.

As socialists, we are opponents of the Jews, because we see in the Hebrews the incarnation of capitalism, of the misuse of the nation’s goods.

From our birthday, until we die, Is but the winking of an eye.

Many people die of thirst but the Irish are born with one.

I gave up before birth.

Deep in the heart of the infinite darkness, a tiny blue marble is spinning through space. Born in the splendor of God’s holy vision, and sliding away like a tear down his face.