And the poem, I think, is only your voice speaking.

The history of men's opposition to women's emancipation is more interesting perhaps than the story of that emancipation itself.

Death is woven in with the violets,” said Louis. “Death and again death.”)

Nothing thicker than a knife's blade separates happiness from melancholy.

In any case life is but a procession of shadows, and God knows why it is that we embrace them so eagerly, and see them depart with such anguish, being shadows.

And yet, the only exciting life is the imaginary one.

Most of a modest woman's life was spent, after all, in denying what, in one day at least of every year, was made obvious.