The Point Is, Life Has To Be

Look On Each Day That Comes As A Challenge, As A Test Of Courage. The Pain Will Come In Waves, Some Days Worse Than Others, For No Apparent Reason. Accept The Pain. Little By Little, You Will Find New Strength, New Vision, Born Of The Very Pain And Loneliness Which Seem, At First, Impossible To Master.

They Are Not Brave, The Days When We Are Twenty-one. They Are Full Of Little Cowardices, Little Fears Without Foundation, And One Is So Easily Bruised, So Swiftly Wounded, One Falls To The First Barbed Word. To-day, Wrapped In The Complacent Armour Of Approaching Middle Age, The Infinitesimal Pricks Of Day By Day Brush One But Lightly And Are Soon Forgotten, But Then—how A Careless Word Would Linger, Becoming A Fiery Stigma, And How A Look, A Glance Over A Shoulder, Branded Themselves As Things Eternal.

Come And See Us If You Feel Like It,' She Said. 'i Always Expect People To Ask Themselves. Life Is Too Short To Send Out Invitations.

Writing Every Book Is Like A Purge; At The End Of It One Is Empty ... Like A Dry Shell On The Beach, Waiting For The Tide To Come In Again.

When The Leaves Rustle, They Sound Very Much Like The Stealthy Movement Of A Woman In Evening Dress, And When They Shiver Suddenly, And Fall, And Scatter Away Along The Ground, They Might Be The Patter Of A Woman’s Hurrying Footsteps, And The Mark In The Gravel The Imprint Of A High-heeled Shoe.