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Tidied all my papers. Tore up and ruthlessly destroyed much. This is always a great satisfaction.

Katherine Mansfield

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Katherine Mansfield
Age: 34 †
Born: 1888
Born: October 14
Died: 1923
Died: January 9
Diarist
Poet
Writer
Wellington
New Zealand
Katherine Mansfield Beauchamp Murry
Kathleen Murry
Katherine Beauchamp Mansfield
Kathleen Mansfield Murry
Papers
Destroyed
Satisfaction
Paper
Order
Great
Much
Ruthlessly
Always
Tore

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Do the hardest thing on earth for you. ACT YOURSELF.
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Better to write twaddle, anything, than nothing at all.
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In fact, isn't it a joy - there is hardly a greater one - to find a new book, a living book, and to know that it will remain with you while life lasts?
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We can do whatever we wish to do provided our wish is strong enough. But the tremendous effort needed- one doesn't always want to make it-does one? ... But what else can be done? What's the alternative? What do you want most to do? That's what I have to keep asking myself, in the face of difficulties.
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if one really does try to find out why it is that people don't leave each other, one discovers a mystery. It is because they can't they are bound. And nobody on earth knows what are the bonds that bind them except those two.
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If only one could tell true love from false love as one can tell mushrooms from toadstools.
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Isn't life,' she stammered, 'isn't life--' But what life was she couldn't explain. No matter. He quite understood. 'Isn't it, darling?' said Laurie.
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You are a Queen. Let mine be the joy of giving you your kingdom.
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Looking back, I imagine I was always writing. Twaddle it was too. But better far write twaddle or anything, anything, than nothing at all.
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There is no feeling to be compared with the feeling of having written and finished a story.
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Courage is like a disobedient dog, once it starts running away it flies all the faster for your attempts to recall it.
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I am a recluse at present & do nothing but write & read & read & write
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How hard it is to escape from places. However carefully one goes they hold you — you leave little bits of yourself fluttering on the fences — like rags and shreds of your very life.
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I adore Life. What do all the fools matter and all the stupidity. They do matter but somehow for me they cannot touch the body of Life. Life is marvellous. I want to be deeply rooted in it - to live - to expand - to breathe in it - to rejoice - to share it. To give and to be asked for Love.
Katherine Mansfield
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The ostrich burying its head in the sand does at any rate wish to convey the impression that its head is the most important part of it.
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I am treating you as my friend, asking you to share my present minuses in the hope that I can ask you to share my future plusses.
Katherine Mansfield
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... I'd always rather be with people who loved me too little rather than with people who loved me too much.
Katherine Mansfield
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What is it with me? Am I absolutely nobody, but merely inordinately vain? I do not know…. But I am most fearfully unhappy. That is all. I am so unhappy that I wish I was dead—yet I should be mad to die when I have not yet lived at all.
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Could we change our attitude, we should not only see life differently, but life itself would come to be different.
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No, no the mind I love must still have wild places - a tangled orchard where dark damsons drop in the heavy grass, an overgrown litde wood, the chance of a snake or two (real snakes), a pool that nobody's fathomed the depth of, and paths threaded with those litde flowers planted by the wind.
Katherine Mansfield