Energy had fastened upon her like a disease.

What depresses me is the inevitable way the second rate forges ahead and the deserving is left behind.

idealism, that gaudy coloring matter of passion, fades when it is brought beneath the trenchant white light of knowledge. Ideals, like mountains, are best at a distance.

anger and jealousy are spasms of the nerves, not of the heart.

Theories have nothing to do with life.

. . . this rage - I have never forgotten it - contained every anger, every revolt I had ever felt in my life - the way I felt when I saw the black dog hunted, the way I felt when I watched old Uncle Henry taken away to the almshouse, the way I felt whenever I had seen people or animals hurt for the pleasure or profit of others.

So long as the serpent continues to crawl on the ground, the primary influence of woman will be indirect.