But there were years when, in search of what I thought was better, nobler things I denied these, my people, and my family. I forgot the songs they sung - and most of those songs are now dead; I erased their dialect from my tongue; I was ashamed of them and their ways of life. But now - yes, I love them; they are a part of my blood; they, with all their virtues and their faults, played a great part in forming my way of looking at life.

But I see no reason why a woman should not grow and develop in all those outlets which are suited to her nature, it matters not at all what they may be.

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

So I had to be the doctor to these wounded men until we could remove them to the hospital. There were fifty-four women and forty little boys with the Red Army prisoners, and I went daily to take care of them also.

To die would have been beautiful. But I belong to those who do not die for the sake of beauty.

I have loved and bitterness left me for that hour. But there are times when love itself is bitter.

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