There are moments when one can neither think nor feel, she thought, and if one can neithre feel nor think, where's one?

It is the duty of the writer to describe.

If woman had no existence save in the fiction written by men, one would imagine her a person of utmost importance; very various; heroic and mean; splendid and sordid; infinitely beautiful and hideous in the extreme; as great as a man; some think even greater.

Consolation for those moments when you can't tell whether you're the divinest genius or the greatest fool in the world.

Thinking is my fighting.

So coming back from a journey, or after an illness, before habits had spun themselves across the surface, one felt that same unreality, which was so startling; felt something emerge. Life was most vivid then.

I am writing to a rhythm and not to a plot.