Occupation: Writer Birth: October 14, 1888 Death: January 9, 1923
By health I mean the power to live a full, adult, living, breathing life in close contact with what I love - the earth and the wonders thereof - the ….
Who is to decide between 'Let it be' and 'Force it'?.
September is different from all other months. It is more magical. I feel the strange chemical change in the earth which produces mushrooms is the cau….
Letters are the real curse of my existence. I hate to write them: I have to. If I don't, there they are - the great guilty gates barring my way..
It is strange that there are times when I feel the stars are not at all solemn: they are secretly gay..
The late evening is the time of times. Then with that unearthly beauty before one it is not hard to realise how far one has to go. To write something….
I am poor - obscure - just eighteen years of age - with a rapacious appetite for everything and principles as light as my purse..
Warm, eager, living life-to be rooted in life-to learn, to desire, to know, to feel, to think, to act. This is what I want. And nothing less. That is….
The ostrich burying its head in the sand does at any rate wish to convey the impression that its head is the most important part of it..
I don't believe other people are ever as foolishly excited as I am while I'm working. How could they be? Writers would have to live in trees..
roses are the only flowers at garden-parties; the only flowers that everybody is certain of knowing..
Whenever I prepare for a journey I prepare as though for death. Should I never return, all is in order..
we cling to our last pleasures as the tree clings to its last leaves..
... I'd always rather be with people who loved me too little rather than with people who loved me too much..
By health I mean the power to live a full, adult, living, breathing life in close contact with... the earth and the wonders thereof - the sea - the s….
What is it with me? Am I absolutely nobody, but merely inordinately vain? I do not know…. But I am most fearfully unhappy. That is all. I am so unhap….
The fields are snowbound no longer; There are little blue lakes and flags of tenderest green. The snow has been caught up into the sky- So many wh….
Perhaps it does not matter so very much what it is one loves in this world. But love something one must..
I have such a horror of telegrams that ask me how I am!! I always want to reply dead..
What do you want most to do? That's what I have to keep asking myself, in the face of difficulties..
In the shortest sea voyage there is no sense of time. You have been down in the cabin for hours or days or years. Nobody knows or cares. You know all….