Nothing is stronger than the position of the dead among the living.

For love... has two faces; one white, the other black; two bodies; one smooth, the other hairy. It has two hands, two feet, two tails, two, indeed, of every member and each one is the exact opposite of the other. Yet, so strictly are they joined together

I am all the time thinking about poetry and fiction and you.

Among the tortures and devestations of life is this then - our friends are not able to finish their stories.

to teach without zest is a crime.

As a woman I have no country. As a woman my country is the whole world.

Who would not spout the family teapot in order to talk with Keats for an hour about poetry, or with Jane Austen about the art of fiction?