And that must end us, that must be our cure: To be no more. Sad cure! For who would lose, Though full of pain, this intellectual being, Those thoughts that wander through eternity, To perish, rather, swallowed up and lost In the wide womb of uncreated night Devoid of sense and motion?

No institution which does not continually test its ideals, techniques and measure of accomplishment can claim real vitality.

In argument with men a woman ever Goes by the worse, whatever be her cause.

By a certain fate, great acts, and great eloquence have most commonly gone hand in hand, equalling and honoring each other in the same ages.

I will not allow my daughters to learn foreign languages because one tongue is sufficient for a woman.

Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit/Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste/Brought death into the world, and all our woe,/With loss of Eden, till one greater Man/Restore us, and regain the blissful seat,/Sing heavenly muse

Still paying, still to owe. Eternal woe!