The myths have always condemned those who 'looked back.' Condemned them, whatever the paradise may have been which they were leaving. Hence this shadow over each departure from your decision.

The myths have always condemned those who ''looked back.'' Condemned them, whatever the paradise may have been which they were leaving. Hence this shadow over each departure from your decision.

Is life so wretched? Isn't it rather your hands which are too small, your vision which is muddled? You are the one who must grow up.

Time always seems long to the child who is waiting - for Christmas, for next summer, for becoming a grownup: long also when he surrenders his whole soul to each moment of a happy day.

Pray that your loneliness may spur you into finding something to live for, great enough to die for.

If only I may grow: firmer, simpler, quieter, warmer.