Humanity Is Outraged In Me And With

One Wastes So Much Time, One Is So Prodigal Of Life, At Twenty! Our Days Of Winter Count For Double. That Is The Compensation Of The Old.

The Mind Has No Sex.

Writing A Journal Means That Facing Your Ocean You Are Afraid To Swim Across It, So You Attempt To Drink It Drop By Drop.

I Loved [fairy Stories] So, And My Mother Weighed Down By Grief Had Given Up Telling Me Them. At Nohant I Found Mmes. D'ardony's And Perrault's Tales In Old Editions Which Became My Chief Joy For Five Or Six Years ... I've Never Read Them Since, But I Could Tell Each Tale Straight Through, And I Don't Think Anything In All One's Intellecutal Life Can Be Compared To These Delights Of Imagination.

There Is Only One Sex. A Man And A Woman Are So Entirely The Same Thing That One Can Scarcely Understand The Subtle Reasons For Sex Distinctions With Which Our Minds Are Filled.