There are fewer ways of making love than they say, and more than one believes.

There are fewer ways of making love than they say, and more than one believes.

I am a mediocre being, a bit cunning.

I detest heavy perfume and shrill voices.

What matters to us, the judgment of men? What have we to doubt, since we are pure before life?

I have no right to beauty. I had been condemned to masculine ugliness.