My own brain is to me the most unaccountable of machinery—always buzzing, humming, soaring roaring diving, and then buried in mud. And why? What's this passion for?
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"All women are prostitutes, or ought to be."
"I am more like a cucumber than a woman."
"She had a profound and reverent passion for the truth."
"I mean, what is a woman? Certainly not a man. The only way to define a woman is to define her as not a man."
"I detest the masculine point of view. I am bored by the male view of life. I am nauseated by the male fiction."
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