Fame is indeed beautiful and benign and gentle and satisfying, but happiness is something at once tender and brilliant beyond all things.

Are there many things in this cool-hearted world so utterly exquisite as the pure love of one woman for another woman?

Do you think a man is the only creature with whom one may fall in love?

Just why I sent it to the publishers would be hard to say, but when I had finished it I felt that it was literature, because it is real and because it was well written. And I know that the world wants such things.

May I never, I say, become that abnormal, merciless animal, that deformed monstrosity - a virtuous woman.

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

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