When I wrote my book I wanted to love someone. I wanted to be in love. Now I know that I shall never be in love - and I no longer wish to be.

I do not see any beauty in self-restraint.

I began to be a woman at twelve, or more properly, a genius.

I want fame more than I can tell. But more than I want fame I want happiness.

Of poets I put Virgil first - he was greatest.

I've never made plans for more than a day ahead.

But in my life, in my personality, there is an essence of falseness and insincerity. A thin, fine vapor of fraud hangs always over me and dampens and injures some things in me that I value.