...in a time lacking in truth and certainty and filled with anguish and despair, no woman should be shamefaced in attempting to give back to the world, through her work, a portion of its lost heart.

Innocence of heart and violence of feeling are necessary in any kind of superior achievement: The arts cannot exist without them.

No more pronouncements on lousy verse. No more hidden competition. No more struggling not to be a square.

The art of one period cannot be approached through the attitudes (emotional or intellectual) of another.

Up from the bronze, I saw Water without a flaw Rush to its rest in air Reach to its rest, and fall.

The fact, and the intuition or logic about the fact, are severe coordinates in fiction. In the short story they must cross with hair-line precision.

The intellectual is a middle-class product; if he is not born into the class he must soon insert himself into it, in order to exist. He is the fine nervous flower of the bourgeoisie.