Stupidity always accompanies evil. Or evil, stupidity.

Women have no wilderness in them They are provident instead Content in the tight hot cell of their hearts To eat dusty bread.

True revolutions in art restore more than they destroy.

It is almost impossible for the poetess, once laurelled, to take off the crown for good or to reject values and taste of those who tender it.

But is there any reason to believe that a woman's spiritual fibre is less sturdy than a man's? Is it not possible for a woman to come to terms with herself if not with the world; to withdraw more and more, as time goes on, her own personality from her productions; to stop childish fears of death and eschew charming rebellions against facts?

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.

Poetry is often generations in advance of the thought of its time.