The Human Race Is Not Very Admirable.

But What Was A Body? Dust, Dung, Urine, Itches. It Was The Light Within Which Was Important, And It Was Not Significant If That Light Endured After Death, Or If The Soul Was Blinded Eternally In The Endless Night Of The Suspired Flesh.

I Converse With My Dog Through Esp

I Have Thought That I Have Seen Ghosts On Many Occasions.

I Shudder At The Very Thought Of Being Born Again Into This World. Life To Me . . . Has Been A Monstrous, Painful, Agonizing Affair, And The Idea Of Repeating Such An Existence - Even If Better In A Way - Is Horrifying To Me. . . . I Gratefully Look Forward To Oblivion, But I Must Be Sure Of It.

There Is No Solid Satisfaction In Any Career For A Woman Like Myself. There Is No Home, No True Freedom, No Hope, No Joy, No Expectation For Tomorrow, No Contentment. I Would Rather Cook A Meal For A Man And Bring Him His Slippers And Feel Myself In The Protection Of His Arms Than Have All The Citations And Awards And Honors I Have Received Worldwide, Including The Ribbon Of Legion Of Honor And My Property And My Bank Accounts. They Mean Nothing To Me. And I Am Only One Among The Millions Of Sad Women Like Myself.