No one yet knows what a man's province is, and how far that province, as conceived of today, is artificial.

In the little hall leading to it was a rack holding various Socialist or radical newspapers, tracts, and pamphlets in very small print and on very bad paper. The subjects treated were technical Marxist theories.

Professors could silence me then; they had figures, diagrams, maps, books.... I was learning that books and diagrams can be evil things if they deaden the mind of man and make him blind or cynical before subjection of any kind.

I joined another circle and the leader gave us a little leaflet in very small print, asking us to read it carefully and then come prepared to ask questions. It was a technical Marxist subject and I did not understand it nor did I know what questions to ask.

I feel like a person living on the brink of a volcano crater.

But settled things were enemies to me and soon lost their newness and color. The unknown called.

I have no objection to a man being a man, however masculine that may be.