One can never pay in gratitude; one can only pay ‘in kind’ somewhere else in life.
By and large, mothers and housewives are the only workers who do not have regular time off. They are the great vacationless class.
For in our family an experience was not finished, not truly experienced, unless written down or shared with another.
Communication with another person — wasn’t it the realest thing in life?
Ideally, both members of a couple in love free each other to new and different worlds.
We walk up the beach under the stars. And when we are tired of walking, we lie flat on the sand under a bowl of stars. We feel stretched, expanded to take in their compass. They pour into us until we are filled with stars, up to the brim.
It’s funny how you can be mad at someone one moment and want to hug them the next.
Women need solitude in order to find again the true essence of themselves.
One learns first of all in beach living the art of shedding; how little one can get along with, not how much.
people talk about ‘sex’ as though it hopped about by itself, like a frog!
What a crippling art writing is, no body to it, no craft, really. It’s all in the mind and you never see it or feel it — only sometimes hear it. It uses only such a small part of man. I wish I were a sculptor.
I have been overcome by the beauty and richness of our life together, those early mornings setting out, those evenings gleaming with rivers and lakes below us, still holding the last light.