Desire and longing are the whips of God.
I feel that women of my kind are a profound mistake. There have been few women poets of distinction, and, if we count only the suicides of Sappho, Lawrence Hope and Charlotte Mew, their despair rate has been very high.
Kinder the enemy who must malign us Than the smug friend who will define us
I desire Virtue, though I love her not- I have no faith in her when she is got: I fear that she will bind and make me slave And send me songless to the sullen grave.
It is well within the order of things That man should listen when his mate sings; But the true male never yet walked Who liked to listen when his mate talked.
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