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

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 consider calmly the question of how much evil I should need to kill off my finer feelings.

However great one's gift of language may be, there is always something that one cannot tell.

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

People say of me, 'She's peculiar.' They do not understand me. If they did they would say so oftener and with emphasis.

One must always say things that aim to interest, because in the world one must after all pay for one's keep.