The world is like a little marsh filled with mint and white hawthorn.

One's thoughts are one's most crucial adventures. Seriously and strongly and intently to contemplate doing murder is everyway more exciting, more romantic, more profoundly tragic than the murder done.

Let me but make a beginning, let me but strike the world in a vulnerable spot, and I can take it by storm.

I do not sing nor play, but I adore music, particularly Chopin. I like him because I cannot understand him.

I am a genius. Then it amused me to keep saying so, but now it does not. I expected to be happy sometime. Now I know I shall never be.

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

Except two breeds - the stupid and the narrowly feline - all women have a touch of the Lesbian: an assertion all good non-analytic creatures refute with horror, but quite true: there is always the poignant intensive personal taste, the flair of inner-sex, in the tenderest friendships of women.