We are aware only of the empty space in the forest, which only yesterday was filled with trees.
My different personalities leave me in peace now.
I was always looking outside myself for strength and confidence but it comes from within. It is there all the time.
Why do we go around acting as though everything was friendship and reliability when basically everything everywhere is full of sudden hate and ugliness?
Creative minds have always been known to survive any kind of bad training.
Papa always makes it clear that he would like to know me as much more rational and lucid than the girls and women he gets to know during his analytic hours.
We live trapped, between the churned-up and examined past and a future that waits for our work.