I Began To Be A

When I Wrote My Book I Wanted To Love Someone. I Wanted To Be In Love. Now I Know That I Shall Never Be In Love - And I No Longer Wish To Be.

At This Point I Meet Me Face To Face. I Am Mary Maclane: Of No Importance To The Wide Bright World And Dearly And Damnably Important To Me.

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.

Let Me But Make A Beginning, Let Me But Strike The World In A Vulnerable Spot, And I Can Take It By Storm.

The World Is Like A Little Marsh Filled With Mint And White Hawthorn.