I want to write such things as compel the admiring acclamation of the world at large, such things as are written but once in years, things subtle but distinctly different from the books written every day.

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

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

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

I want to write such things as compel the admiring acclamation of the world at large, such things as are written but once in years, things subtle but distinctly different from the books written every day.

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.

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