A genius who does not know that he is a genius is no genius.

I have never read a line of Walt Whitman.

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.

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

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 am lithe, but fragile from constant involuntary self-analysis.

There is really no right and wrong. I recognize no right and wrong.