Another great illusion that woman must ... destroy . .. is the impurity of sex, the realisation in defiance of superstition that there is nothing impure in sex - except in the mental attitude toward it.

Leave off looking to men to find out what you are not - seek within yourselves to find out what you are.

Poetry is prose bewitched, a music made of visual thoughts, the sound of an idea.

Love of others is the appreciation of one's self.

Life is only limited by our prejudices. Destroy them, and you cease to be at the mercy of yourself.

LOVE of others is the appreciation of one's self. MAY your egotism be so gigantic that you comprise mankind in your self-sympathy.

The flux of life is pouring its aesthetic aspect into your eyes, your ears - and you ignore it because you are looking for your canons of beauty in some sort of frame or glass case or tradition.