May I Never, I Say, Become That

Some People Say That Beauty Is A Curse. It May Be True, But I'm Sure I Should Not Have At All Minded Being Cursed A Little.

Do You Think A Man Is The Only Creature With Whom One May Fall In Love?

I Can Think Of Nothing In The World Like The Utter Littleness, The Paltriness, The Contemptibleness, The Degradation, Of The Woman Who Is Tied Down Under A Roof With A Man Who Is Really Nothing To Her; Who Wears The Man’s Name, Who Bears The Man’s Children — Who Plays The Virtuous Woman. . . . May I Never, I Say, Become That Abnormal Merciless Animal, That Deformed Monstrosity — A Virtuous Woman.

I Began To Be A Woman At Twelve, Or More Properly, A Genius.

I Am Lithe, But Fragile From Constant Involuntary Self-analysis.