I Shuddered To Think How Completely The

All The Asylum Clothing Is Made By The Patients, But Sewing Does Not Employ One's Mind. After Several Months' Confinement The Thoughts Of The Busy World Grow Faint, And All The Poor Prisoners Can Do Is To Sit And Ponder Over Their Hopeless Fate

How Can A Doctor Judge A Woman's Sanity By Merely Bidding Her Good Morning And Refusing To Hear Her Pleas For Release? Even The Sick Ones Know It Is Useless To Say Anything, For The Answer Will Be That It Is Their Imagination.

I Have Never Written A Word That Did Not Come From My Heart. I Never Shall.

I Was Too Impatient To Work At The Usual Duties Assigned Women On Newspapers.

I Always Made A Point Of Telling The Doctors I Was Sane, And Asking To Be Released, But The More I Endeavored To Assure Them Of My Sanity, The More They Doubted It