In their (women) quest for rights they have naturally placed emphasis on their wrongs rather than their achievements and possessions, and have retold history as a story of their long martyrdom

Certainly, travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.

The volumes which record the history of the human race are filled with the deeds and the words of great men ... [but] The Twentieth Century Woman ... questions the completeness of the story.

Action without study fatal. Study without action is futile.

Viewed narrowly, all life is universal hunger and an expression of energy associated with it.

In brief, we who write are all in the same boat, as if we are survivors of torpedoes, and we hope to reach the shores of thought with strength for more activity.

The dogma of woman's complete historical subjection to men must be rated as one of the most fantastic myths ever created by the human mind.

Could anyone fail to be depressed by a book he or she has published? Don't we always outgrow them the moment the last page has been written?

Democracy cannot sustain itself amid a high degree of violence.

Every revolution has its counter-revolution.

Those who sit at the feast will continue to enjoy themselves even though the veil that separates them from the world of toiling reality below has been lifted by mass revolts and critics.

All the words I had prepared turned coward and fled my mind like conscripts deserting a battlefield.

When a man is getting worse, he understands his own badness less and less.

Every time anybody in Washington talks about legal status, amnesty, anything of that nature, it becomes a magnet that lures people in quickly into the United States.

People get caught up in worshipping certain rappers, or they try to demonise hip hop by looking at what certain rappers are doin' in their lives.

The capitalist culture of consumption... does not provide meaningful sustenance for large numbers of people.

A sister they had, Galadriel, most beautiful of all the house of Finwë; her hair was lit with gold as though it had caught in a mesh the radiance of Laurelin.

But you're better than I am, Katsa. And it doesn't humiliate me. It humbles me. But it doesn't humiliate me.

And when you appear all the rivers sound in my body, bells shake the sky, and a hymn fills the world.

Life is an ocean, and most everyone's hanging on to some kind of dream to keep afloat.