I would rather be a fairly happy wife and mother.

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

Of poets I put Virgil first - he was greatest.

Genius, apart from natural sensitiveness, is prone equally to unreasoning joy and to bitterest morbidness.

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

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.

But in my life, in my personality, there is an essence of falseness and insincerity. A thin, fine vapor of fraud hangs always over me and dampens and injures some things in me that I value.