The Final Lesson Of Learning To Be

These Bright Roofs, These Steep Towers, These Jewel-lakes, These Skeins Of Railroad Line - All Spoke To Her And She Answered. She Was Glad They Were There. She Belonged To Them And They To Her. . . . She Had Not Lost It. She Was Touching It With Her Fingertips. This Was Flying: To Go Swiftly Over The Earth You Loved, Touching It Lightly With Your Fingertips, Holding The Railroads Lines In Your Hand To Guide You, Like A Skein Of Wool In A Spider-web Game - Like Following Ariadne's Thread Through The Minotaur's Maze, Where Would It Lead, Where?

If It Is A Woman's Function To Give, She Must Be Replenished, Too.

To Mention A Loved Object, A Person, Or A Place To Someone Else Is To Invest That Object With Reality.

What A Commentary On Our Civilization, When Being Alone Is Considered Suspect; When One Has To Apologize For It, Make Excuses, Hide The Fact That One Practices It—like A Secret Vice!

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.