Anne Morrow Lindbergh

When the wedding march sounds the resolute approach, the clock no longer ticks, it tolls the hour. The figures in the aisle are no longer individuals, they symbolize the human race.

Grief can't be shared. Everyone carries it alone. His own burden in his own way.

I must write it all out, at any cost. Writing is thinking. It is more than living, for it is being conscious of living.

Well, youth is the period of assumed personalities and disguises. It is the time of the sincerely insincere.

If you're not having a good time, find something else that gives you some joy in life.

Exhaust the little moment. Soon it dies. And be it gash or gold it will not come Again in this identical guise.