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Here she was again, she thought… drawn out of gossip, out of living, out of community with people into the presence of this formidable ancient enemy of hers—this other thing, this truth, this reality, which suddenly laid hands on her….

It is best as one grows older to strip oneself of possessions, to shed oneself downward like a tree, to be almost wholly earth before one dies.

....no woman he had ever met compared in any way with Gloria. She was deeply herself; she was immeasurably sincere...

Opening wide to the fullness of life, Cézanne felt himself to be the conduit where nature and humanity met—“The landscape thinks itself in me…I am its consciousness.”