Devil, Do You Dare Approach Me? And

For A Moment My Soul Was Elevated From Its Debasing And Miserable Fears To Which These Sights Were The Monuments And The Remembrances. For An Instant I Dared To Shake Off My Chains, And Look Around Me With A Free And Lofty Spirit; But The Iron Had Eaten Into My Flesh, And I Sank Again, Trembling And Hopeless, Into My Miserable Self.

Teach Him To Think For Himself? Oh, My God, Teach Him Rather To Think Like Other People!

I Am Alone And Miserable. Only Someone As Ugly As I Am Could Love Me.

It Would Be An Endless Task To Trace The Variety Of Meannesses, Cares, And Sorrows Into Which Women Are Plunged By The Prevailing Opinion That They Were Created Rather To Feel Than Reason.

I Required Kindness And Sympathy, But I Did Not Believe Myself Utterly Unworthy Of It.