A party is like a sausage machine, it grinds up all sorts of heads together into the same baloney.

To live is to war with trolls in heart and woul. To write is to sit in judgement on oneself.

Different people have different duties assigned them by Nature; Nature has given one the power or the desire to do this, the other that. Each bird must sing with his own throat.

Oh, life would be all right if we didn't have to put up with these damned creditors who keep pestering us with the demands of their ideals.

But I almost think we are all of us ghosts. It is not only what we have inherited from our father and mother that “walks” in us. It is all sorts of dead ideas, and lifeless old beliefs, and so forth. They have no vitality, but they cling to us all the same, and we cannot shake them off. Whenever I take up a newspaper, I seem to see ghosts gliding between the lines.

I am sticking as closely to my subject as I can; for my subject is precisely this, that it is the masses, the majority

Mrs LINDE: When you've sold yourself once for the sake of others, you don't do it second time.