It's terrible, once you've got a man into your blood!" she said.

The world of men is dreaming, it has gone mad in its sleep, and a snake is strangling it, but it can't wake up.

Consciousness is an end in itself. We torture ourselves getting somewhere, and when we get there it is nowhere, for there is nowhere to get to.

Beauty is a mystery. You can neither eat it nor make flannel out of it.

And that is how we are. By strength of will we cut off our inner intuitive knowledge from admitted consciousness. This causes a state of dread, or apprehension, which makes the blow ten times worse when it does fall.

I can give you a spirit love, I have given you this long, long time; but not embodied passion. See, you are a nun. I have given you what I would give a holy nun...In all our relations no body enters. I do not talk to you through the senses - rather through the spirit. That is why we cannot love in the common sense.

She herself had never been able to be altogether herself: it had been denied her.