Why, why are people all balls of bitter dust? Because they won't fall off the tree when they're ripe. They hang on to their old positions when the position is overpast, till they become infested with little worms and dry-rot.

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.

I am convinced that the air we normally breathe is a kind of water, and men and women are a species of fish.

Love is the hastening gravitation of spirit towards spirit, and body towards body, in the joy of creation.

Never set a child afloat on the flat sea of life with only one sail to catch the wind.

To every man who struggles with his own soul in mystery, a book that is a book flowers once, and seeds, and is gone.

One doesn't know, till one is a bit at odds with the world, how much one's friends who believe in one rather generously, mean to one.