I Find No Intellect Comparable To My

Every Fact Is Impure, But Every Fact Contains In It The Juices Of Life. Every Fact Is A Clod, From Which May Grow An Amaranth Or A Palm.

Who Does Not Observe The Immediate Glow And Security That Is Diffused Over The Life Of Woman, Before Restless Or Fretful, By Engaging In Gardening, Building, Or The Lowest Department Of Art? Here Is Something That Is Not Routine--something That Draws Forth Life Towards The Infinite.

... The Power Who Gave A Power, By Its Mere Existence, Signifies That It Must Be Brought Out Towards Perfection.

There Is No Wholly Masculine Man, No Purely Feminine Woman.

Next To Invention Is The Power Of Interpreting Invention; Next To Beauty The Power Of Appreciating Beauty.