Travel Far, Pay No Fare... A Book

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.

When One Is A Stranger To Oneself, Then One Is Estranged From Others, Too. If One Is Out Of Touch With Oneself, Then One Cannot Touch Others. Only When One Is Connected To One's Own Core, Is One Connected To Others. And For Me, The Core, The Inner Spring, Can Best Be Re-found Through Silence.

Great Problems That Face The World Today In Both The Private And The Public Sphere Cannot Be Solved By Women – Or By Men – Alone. They Can Only Be Surmounted By Men And Women Side By Side.

Nothing Feeds The Center Of Being So Much As Creative Work. The Curtain Of Mechanization Has Come Down Between The Mind And The Hand.

One Writes Not To Be Read But To Breathe...one Writes To Think, To Pray, To Analyze. One Writes To Clear One's Mind, To Dissipate One's Fears, To Face One's Doubts, To Look At One's Mistakes--in Order To Retrieve Them. One Writes To Capture And Crystallize One's Joy, But Also To Disperse One's Gloom. Like Prayer--you Go To It In Sorrow More Than Joy, For Help, A Road Back To 'grace'.