I Find The Weight Of Air/almost Too

I Am Most Anxious To Give My Own Children Enough Love And Understanding So That They Won't Grow Up With An Aching Void In Them--like You And I And Harold And Martha. That Can Never Be Filled, And One Goes Around All One's Life Trying, Trying To Make Up For What One Didn't Get That Was One's Birthright, Asking The Wrong People For It.

Love Is A Force.... It Is Not A Result; It Is A Cause. It Is Not A Product; It Produces.

Travel Far, Pay No Fare... A Book Can Take You Anywhere.

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. . . . She Had Not Lost It. She Was Touching It With Her Fingertips. This Was Flying: To Go Swiftly Over The Earth You Loved, Touching It Lightly With Your Fingertips, Holding The Railroads Lines In Your Hand To Guide You, Like A Skein Of Wool In A Spider-web Game - Like Following Ariadne's Thread Through The Minotaur's Maze, Where Would It Lead, Where?

How Hard It Is To Have The Beautiful Interdependence Of Marriage And Yet Be Strong In Oneself Alone.