Socialist writers are made of sterner stuff than those who only let their characters steeplechase through trouble in order to comeout first in the happy ending of moral uplift.

A lie is real; it aims at success. A liar is a realist.

If all the rich people in the world divided up their money among themselves, there wouldn't be enough to go around.

Women are outside the law; they make nothing, they say yes or no to some collections of whereases.

She was able to feel active creation going on around her in the rocks and hills, where the mystery of lust took place; and in herself, where all was yet only the night of senses and wild dreams, the work of passion going on.

It is most oppressive to be an aunt.

Women have been brought up much like slaves, that is, to lie.