A snake came to my water trough On a hot, hot day, and I in pajamas for the heat, To drink there.

They lived freely among the students, they argued with the men over philosophical, sociological and artistic matters, they were just as good as the men themselves: only better, since they were women.

We ought to dance with rapture that we should be alive and in the flesh, and part of the living, incarnate cosmos.

She wished some help would come from outside. But in the whole world there was no help. Society was terrible because it was insane. Civilized society is insane. Money and so-called love are its two great manias; money a long way first. The individual asserts himself in his disconnected insanity in these two modes: money and love.

The upshot was, my paintings must burn that English artists might finally learn.

Give up bearing children and bear hope and love and devotion to those already born.

Not that the Red Indian will ever possess the broad lands of America. At least I presume not. But his ghost will.