Men alone are not capable of making laws for men and women.

I want to leave something behind when I go; some small legacy of truth, some word that will shine in a dark place.

Women are going to form a chain, a greater sisterhood than the world has ever known.

Children are great idealists, until the stupidity of their elders puts out the fires of the aspirations.

Have we not the brains to think? Hands to work? Hearts to feel? And lives to live?

By nice women . . . you probably mean selfish women who have no more thought for the underprivileged, overworked women than a pussycat in a sunny window for the starving kitten in the street. Now in that sense I am not a nice woman, for I do care.

Literature may be light as a cobweb, but it must be fastened down to life at the four corners.