It Is With Pain That I Read

When I Was Three Years Old I Was Taken With My Family To A Little Town In Western Minnesota, Where I Lived A More Or Less Vapid And Ordinary Life Until I Was Ten.

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.

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

Some Day The Devil Will Come To Me And Say: 'come With Me.'and I Will Answer: 'yes.

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.