Satan Has His Companions, Fellow-devils, To Admire

With How Many Things Are We On The Brink Of Becoming Acquainted, If Cowardice Or Carelessness Did Not Restrain Our Inquiries.

I Am Alone And Miserable. Only Someone As Ugly As I Am Could Love Me.

It Would Be An Endless Task To Trace The Variety Of Meannesses, Cares, And Sorrows Into Which Women Are Plunged By The Prevailing Opinion That They Were Created Rather To Feel Than Reason.

One As Deformed And Horrible As Myself, Could Not Deny Herself To Me. My Companion Must Be Of The Same Species, And Have The Same Defects... With Whom I Can Live In The Interchange Of Those Sympathies Necessary For My Being.

Women Are Told From Their Infancy, And Taught By The Example Of Their Mothers, That A Little Knowledge Of Human Weakness, Justly Termed Cunning, Softness Of Temper, Outward Obedience And A Scrupulous Attention To A Puerile Kind Of Propriety, Will Obtain For Them The Protection Of Man.