I was no pope - I could not boast infallibility.
What delusion has come over me? What sweet madness has seized me?
I desired liberty; for liberty I gasped; for liberty I uttered a prayer; it seemed scattered on the wind then faintly blowing.
I seem to have gathered up a stray lamb in my arms: you wandered out of the fold to seek your shepherd, did you, Jane?
You, Jane, I must have you for my own--entirely my own.
I wished critics would judge me as an author, not as a woman.