I'm Sick Of My Own Romanticism!

Last Night I Wept. I Wept Because The Process By Which I Have Become Woman Was Painful. I Wept Because I Was No Longer A Child With A Child's Blind Faith. I Wept Because My Eyes Were Opened To Reality....i Wept Because I Could Not Believe Anymore And I Love To Believe. I Can Still Love Passionately Without Believing. That Means I Love Humanly. I Wept Because I Have Lost My Pain And I Am Not Yet Accustomed To Its Absence.

The Shell Is America's Most Active Contribution To The Formation Of Character. A Tough Hide. Grow It Early.

Houses Turn To Corpses Overnight When We Cease To Live And Love In Them.

The Unconscious Can Become Destructive If It Is Disregarded And Thwarted.

Things Aren't The Way They Are, They're The Way You Are