But childhood prolonged cannot remain a fairyland. It becomes a hell.

We whirl along like leaves, and nobody knows, nobody cares where we fall.

The men walked like scissors; the women trod like cats.

Bless you, my darling, and remember you are always in the heart ...of your sister.

Now I am a plant, a weed, / Bending and swinging / On a rocky ledge; / And now I am a long brown grass / Fluttering like flame; / I am a reed; / An old shell singing / For ever the same; / A drift of sedge; / A white, white stone; / A bone; / Until I pass / Into sand again, / And spin and blow / To and fro, to and fro, / On the edge of the sea / In the fading light-- / For the light fades.

In an opal dream cave I found a fairy: / Her wings were frailer than flower petals, / Frailer far than snowflakes. / She was not frightened, but poised on my finger, / Then delicately walked into my hand. / I shut the two palms of my hands together / And held her prisoner. / I carried her out of the opal cave, / Then opened my hands. / First she became thistledown, / Then a mote in a sunbeam, / Then--nothing at all. / Empty now is my opal dream cave.

In the daytime when sweeping and dusting and cleaning were quite at an end, he would sit very still on the doorstep.

Could we change our attitude, we should not only see life differently, but life itself would come to be different. Life would undergo a change of appearance because we ourselves had undergone a change in attitude.

Regret is an appalling waste of energy, you can't build on it - it's only good for wallowing in.

I want, by understanding myself, to understand others. I want to be all that I am capable of becoming.