It was strange: When you reduced even a fledgling love affair to its essentials--I loved her, she maybe loved me, I was foolish, I suffered--it became vacuous and trite, meaningless to anyone else. In the end, it's only the moments… — Susan Vreeland Copy Share Image
“The winsome lilt of Digna humming in the garden. Her knowing, almost teasing look, not quite a smile, when she knew she had the… — Susan Vreeland Copy Share Image
“At this stage of life, he'd better just lean into love, because if he fell, he feared he might break a hip.” — Susan Vreeland Copy Share Image
“Bicyclist's Philosophy of Life..."It's a matter of faith. You can keep upright only by moving forward. You have to have your eyes on the… — Susan Vreeland Copy Share Image
“How love builds itself unconsciously, he thought, out of the momentous ordinary.” — Susan Vreeland Copy Share Image
He and I had a bridge that no one else traveled that made us artistic lovers, passionate without a touch of the flesh. He… — Susan Vreeland Copy Share Image
Look long enough, out or in, and you’ll be glad you are who you are. — Susan Vreeland Copy Share Image
“Now he knew . . . that there was nothing so vital as paying attention, and perfecting the humble offices of love.” — Susan Vreeland Copy Share Image
“Overblown responsibility was a part of my preoccupation with myself.” — Susan Vreeland Copy Share Image
That a thing made by hand, the work and thought of a single craftsman, can endure much longer than its maker, through centuries in… — Susan Vreeland Copy Share Image
“No one but another painter could know the delicacy required to balance the complexities, to keep reality at bay in order to remain in… — Susan Vreeland Copy Share Image
