For beyond the difficulty of communicating oneself, there is the supreme difficulty of being oneself.

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Let us simmer over our incalculable cauldron, our enthralling confusion, our hotchpotch of impulses, our perpetual miracle - for the soul throws up wonders every second. Movement and change are the essence of our being; rigidity is death; conformity is death; let us say what comes into our heads, repeat ourselves, contradict ourselves, fling out the wildest nonsense, and follow the most fantastic fancies without caring what the world does or thinks or says. For nothing matters except life.

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I am overwhelmed with things I ought to have written about and never found the proper words.

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I thought how unpleasant it is to be locked out; and I thought how it is worse, perhaps, to be locked in.

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I am rooted, but I flow.

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Love had a thousand shapes.

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We are the words; we are the music; we are the thing itself.

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I always had the deepest affection for people who carried sublime tears in their silences.

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Just in case you ever foolishly forget; I'm never not thinking of you

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I feel so intensely the delights of shutting oneself up in a little world of one’s own, with pictures and music and everything beautiful.

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