Some people say that beauty is a curse. It may be true, but I'm sure I should not have at all minded being cursed a little.

at this point I meet Me face to face. I am Mary MacLane: of no importance to the wide bright world and dearly and damnably important to Me.

I read of the Kalamazoo girl who killed herself after reading the book. I am not at all surprised. She lived in Kalamazoo, for one thing, and then she read the book.

I am not good. I am not virtuous. I am not sympathetic. I am not generous. I am merely and above all a creature of intense passionate feeling. I feel—everything. It is my genius. It burns me like fire.

It is with pain that I read of the dire effects of my book upon the minds of young girls.

Some people say that beauty is a curse. It may be true, but I'm sure I should not have at all minded being cursed a little.

I have read of women who have been strongly, grandly brave. Sometimes I have dreamed that I might be brave. The possibilities of this life are magnificent.