The middle years of life come on like thunder.

In regard to tenacity of life, no old yellow cat has anything on a prejudice. You may kill it with your own hands, bury it deep, and sit on the grave, and behold! the next day it will walk in at the back door, purring.

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

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

Never retract, never explain, never apologize; get things done and let them howl.

People must know the past to understand the present, and to face the future.

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