“A great artist is never poor.” — Karen Blixen

When in the end, the day came on which I was going away, I learned the strange learning that things can happen which we ourselves cannot possibly imagine, either beforehand, or at the time when they are taking place, or afterwards when we look back on them.

Who tells a finer tale than any of us. Silence does.

Love, with very young people, is a heartless business. We drink at that age from thirst, or to get drunk; it is only later in life that we occupy ourselves with the individuality of our wine.

I think it will be truly glorious when women become real people and have the whole world open to them.