Let us stop being afraid. Of our own thoughts, our own minds. Of madness, our own or others'. Stop being afraid of the mind itself, its astonishing functions and fandangos, its complications and simplifications, the wonderful operation of its machinery--more wonderful because it is not machinery at all or predictable.

Aren't women prudes if they don't and prostitutes if they do?

What is the future of the woman's movement How in the hell do I know I don't run it.

We are naïve and moralistic women. We are human beings. Who find politics a blight upon the human condition. And do not know how one copes with it except through politics.

Hell, I don't want to grow old at all. I never want to die.

I saw hell. The hospital had divided and conquered pretty successfully.

Hostility is expressed in a number of ways. One is laughter.