We are divorced, North from South, because we have hated each other so. If we could only separate politely, and not have a horrid fight for divorce.

Peace, comfort, quiet, happiness, I have found away from home. Only your own family, those nearest and dearest, can hurt you.

Of all our sorrows, memory is the worst.

Oh, if I could put some of my reckless spirit into these discreet cautious lazy men!

I do not allow myself vain regrets or foreboding.

There is no slave, after all, like a wife...Poor women, poor slaves All married women, all children and girls who live in their father's house are slaves.

Brutal men with unlimited power are the same all over the world