All our lives, we long, we long, thinking it is the moon we long for. So how, when we meet it in the shape of a most fair woman, can we do less than leave all others for her?” WB Yeats.

Mr. Yeats makes great poetry out of what he calls his unhappiness about me, and he is happy in that. – Maud Gonne.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they say, but what if you are the beauty? Then, it’s the look in a man’s eye coming at you, telling you know more than you want to know. It’s the dislike they deal you for desiring you. Beauty doesn’t write the book or raise the child or learn the knowledge. It’s for the beholder, not the holder.

If you can’t change your mind, you can’t change anything.

All indies self-publish but not all self-publishers are indie.

The eyes of the creative spirit can see in all directions.

How you do money is how you do life.

Wherever there is fear, there is creative treasure. Something important lies buried.

Women come more easily to that wisdom which ancient peoples, and all wild peoples even now, think the only wisdom.

When one is busy, as she was in Donegal, life whistles by. One struggles to keep up with oneself. It is vital, when one slows down, to be conscious of small things, small moments. To take pains.