Nature forms us for ourselves, not for others; to be, not to seem. - Anaïs Nin

Living never wore one out so much as the effort not to live.

And silence. She liked the silence most of all. The silence in which the body, senses, the instincts, are more alert, more powerful, more sensitized, live a more richly perfumed and intoxication life, instead of transmuting into thoughts, words, into exquisite abstractions, mathematics of emotion in place of violent impact, the volcanic eruptions of fever, lust and delight.

All those who try to unveil the mysteries always have tragic lives. At the end they are always punished.