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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
Great
Much
Ruthlessly
Always
Tore
Papers
Destroyed
Satisfaction
Paper
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More quotes by Katherine Mansfield
My love for you tonight is so deep and tender that it seems to be outside myself as well.
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I am a recluse at present & do nothing but write & read & read & write
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You are a Queen. Let mine be the joy of giving you your kingdom.
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I want to be all that I am capable of becoming.
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The truth is friendship is every bit as sacred and eternal as marriage.
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You might drop your heart into me and you'd never hear it touch bottom.
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It's a terrible thing to be alone - yes it is - it is - but don't lower your mask until you have another mask prepared beneath - as terrible as you like - but a mask.
Katherine Mansfield
I love the night. I love to feel the tide of darkness rising, slowly and slowly washing, turning over and over, lifting, floating, all that lies strewn upon the dark beach, all that lies hid in rocky hollows.
Katherine Mansfield
Warm, eager, living life-to be rooted in life-to learn, to desire, to know, to feel, to think, to act. This is what I want. And nothing less. That is what I must try for.
Katherine Mansfield
Whatever happens I have had these blissful, perfect moments and they are worth living for.
Katherine Mansfield
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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The pleasure of all reading is doubled when one lives with another who shares the same books.
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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.
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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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Perhaps it does not matter so very much what it is one loves in this world. But love something one must.
Katherine Mansfield
Better to write twaddle, anything, than nothing at all.
Katherine Mansfield
we cling to our last pleasures as the tree clings to its last leaves.
Katherine Mansfield
Ach, Tchekov! Why are you dead? Why can’t I talk to you in a big darkish room at late evening—where the light is green from the waving trees outside? I’d like to write a series of Heavens: that would be one.
Katherine Mansfield
Wind moving through grass so that the grass quivers. This moves me with an emotion I don't even understand.
Katherine Mansfield
To work - to work! It is such infinite delight to know that we still have the best things to do.
Katherine Mansfield