Geniuses Were Like Storms Or Cyclones, Pulling

The Nicest Gifts Are Those Left, Nameless And Quiet, Unburdened With Love, Or Vanity, Or The Desire For Attention.

Arranging A Bowl Of Flowers In The Morning Can Give A Sense Of Quiet In A Crowded Day - Like Writing A Poem Or Saying A Prayer.

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.

No American Can Understand The Need For Time -- That Is, Simply Space To Breathe. If You Have Ten Minutes To Spare You Should Jam That Full Instead Of Leaving It -- As Space Around Your Next Ten Minutes. How Can Anything Ripen Without Those 'empty' Ten Minutes?

In General, I Feel, Or I Have Come To Feel, That The Richest Writing Comes Not From The People Who Dedicate Themselves To Writing Alone. I Know This Is Contradicted Again And Again But I Continue To Feel It. They Don't, Of Course, Write As Much, Or As Fast, But I Think It Is Riper And More Satisfying When It Does Come. One Of The Difficulties Of Writing Or Doing Any Kind Of Creative Work In America Seems To Me To Be That We Put Such Stress On Production And Material Results. We Put A Time Pressure And A Mass Pressure On Creative Work Which Are Meaningless And Infantile In That Field.