It's Funny How You Can Be Mad

In The Sheltered Simplicity Of The First Days After A Baby Is Born, One Sees Again The Magical Closed Circle, The Miraculous Sense Of Two People Existing Only For Each Other.

Marriage Should, I Think, Always Be A Little Bit Hard And New And Strange. It Should Be Breaking Your Shell And Going Into Another World, And A Bigger One.

The Web Of Marriage Is Made By Propinquity, In The Day To Day Living Side By Side, Looking Outward In The Same Direction. It Is Woven In Space And In Time Of The Substance Of Life Itself.

By And Large, Mothers And Housewives Are The Only Workers Who Do Not Have Regular Time Off. They Are The Great Vacationless Class.

I Am Very Fond Of The Oyster Shell. It Is Humble And Awkward And Ugly. It Is Slate-colored And Unsymmetrical. Its Form Is Not Primarily Beautiful But Functional. I Make Fun Of Its Knobbiness. Sometimes I Resent Its Burdens And Excrescences. But Its Tireless Adaptability And Tenacity Draw My Astonished Admiration And Sometimes Even My Tears. And It Is Comfortable In Its Familiarity, Its Homeliness, Like Old Garden Gloves When Have Molded Themselves Perfectly To The Shape Of The Hand. I Do Not Like To Put It Down. I Will Not Want To Leave It.