Somewhere, everywhere, now hidden, now apparent in what ever is written down, is the form of a human being. If we seek to know him, are we idly occupied?
From Virginia Woolf
It is curious how instinctively one protects the image of oneself from idolatry or any other handling that could make it ridiculous, or too unlike the original to be believed any longer.
If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people.
One of the signs of passing youth is the birth of a sense of fellowship with other human beings as we take our place among them.
The history of men's opposition to women's emancipation is more interesting perhaps than the story of that emancipation itself.
The eyes of others our prisons; their thoughts our cages.
On the outskirts of every agony sits some observant fellow who points.
Some people go to priests; others to poetry; I to my friends.
Life is not a series of gig lamps symmetrically arranged; life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end.
Nothing induces me to read a novel except when I have to make money by writing about it. I detest them.
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