I Began To Be A

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.

Are There Many Things In This Cool-hearted World So Utterly Exquisite As The Pure Love Of One Woman For Another Woman?

A Genius Who Does Not Know That He Is A Genius Is No Genius.

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 Read Of The Kalamazoo Girl Who Killed Herself After Reading The Book. I Am Not At All Surprised. She Lived In Kalamazoo, For One Thing, And Then She Read The Book.