“It is just my imagination that flies,While she is wrapped up in her bedsheetslike a nest.”

“We wrote our names in the sandYou crossed mine out: I can't getback to the way I was.”

“If onlyyou could have witnessed howmuch I have changed: sit alonein a disused theatre and feel whatI have felt, see how the world hastransformed me, like the metamorphosisof a caterpillar.”

“Where is my oasis? Too far fromhere for me to crawl with thesedead legs, refusing to co-operateHands and fingers clawing uselesslythrough the grains of sand...”

“I fix the cramped, lined pageswith my curious stare. How do youcome to exist?”

“Im not a woman you bring home to Mother, pick out china patterns with, or Mary forefend, breed. Ive seen a chunk of the universe, true, but theres still so much more to see. I doubt Ill ever cure t...”

“My hope, my heaven, my trust must be,My gentle guide, in following thee.”

“Amory took to writing poetry on spring afternoons, in the gardens of the big estates near Princeton, while swans made effective atmosphere in the artificial pools, and slow clouds sailed harmonious...”

“Circumstances will change and things will be fine, just hold on a little more”

“It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.”

“The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places.”