No Mere Human Can Stand

Once Upon A Time, When Men And Women Hurtled Through The Air On Metal Wings, When They Wore Webbed Feet And Walked On The Bottom Of The Sea, Learning The Speech Of Whales And The Songs Of The Dolphins, When Pearly-fleshed And Jewelled Apparitions Of Texan Herdsmen And Houris Shimmered In The Dusk On Nicaraguan Hillsides, When Folk In Norway And Tasmania In Dead Of Winter Could Dream Of Fresh Strawberries, Dates, Guavas And Passion Fruits And Find Them Spread Next Morning On Their Tables, There Was A Woman Who Was Largely Irrelevant, And Therefore Happy.

Harm Can Come About Without Will Or Action. But Will And Action Can Avert Harm.

Independent Women Must Expect More Of Themselves, Since Neither Men Nor Other More Conventionally Domesticated Women Will Hope For Anything, Or Expect Any Result Other Than Utter Failure.

I Think The Virtue I Prize Above All Others Is Curiosity.

Autobiographies Tell More Lies Than All But The Most Self-indulgent Fiction.