Are There Many Things In

May I Never, I Say, Become That Abnormal, Merciless Animal, That Deformed Monstrosity - A Virtuous Woman.

Just Why I Sent It To The Publishers Would Be Hard To Say, But When I Had Finished It I Felt That It Was Literature, Because It Is Real And Because It Was Well Written. And I Know That The World Wants Such Things.

I Have Read Of Women Who Have Been Strongly, Grandly Brave. Sometimes I Have Dreamed That I Might Be Brave. The Possibilities Of This Life Are Magnificent.

I Can Think Of Nothing In The World Like The Utter Littleness, The Paltriness, The Contemptibleness, The Degradation, Of The Woman Who Is Tied Down Under A Roof With A Man Who Is Really Nothing To Her; Who Wears The Man’s Name, Who Bears The Man’s Children — Who Plays The Virtuous Woman. . . . May I Never, I Say, Become That Abnormal Merciless Animal, That Deformed Monstrosity — A Virtuous Woman.

I Am Not Good. I Am Not Virtuous. I Am Not Sympathetic. I Am Not Generous. I Am Merely And Above All A Creature Of Intense Passionate Feeling. I Feel—everything. It Is My Genius. It Burns Me Like Fire.