What childishness is it that while there's breath of life in our bodies, we are determined to rush to see the sun the other way around?

All my life I have lived and behaved very much like the sandpiper - just running down the edges of different countries and continents, 'looking for something'.

Icebergs behoove the soul (Both being self-made from elements least visible) to see themselves: fleshed, fair, erected, indivisible.

Should we have stayed at home and thought of here? Where should we be today? Is it right to be watching strangers in a play in this strangest of theatres?

I don't want to party my life away. If you aren't living for something, you are wasting your life.

She was restless. She drove a little too fast, swam a little too far offshore. She hitchhiked. She skied recklessly. While Sylvia's rabid perfectionism was very real, she was far from the good-girl persona she worked so hard to cultivate.