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. Mary MacLane familylifelive Change image and share on social
One must always say things that aim to interest, because in the world one must after all pay for one's keep. Mary MacLane aiminterestpay Change image and share on social
I am a genius. Then it amused me to keep saying so, but now it does not. I expected to be happy sometime. Now I know I shall never be. Mary MacLane amuseexpectgenius Change image and share on social
I never give my real self. I have a hundred sides, and I turn first one way and then the other. I am playing a deep game. I have a number of strong cards up my sleeve. I have never been myself, excepting to two friends. Mary MacLane carddeepexcept share on social
The only joy I had was writing what was. That book was. It no longer amuses me to be all the things I was when I wrote that. But it is my story as I was then. Mary MacLane amusebookjoy Change image and share on social
I do not see any beauty in self-restraint. Mary MacLane beautyrestraint Change image and share on social
The book, you understand, was not written for publication. It was the portrayal of my emotions, the analysis of my own soul life during three months of my nineteenth year. I wrote then all the time, just as I do now, but, though the book is in diary form, it is not a diary. Mary MacLane analysisbookdiary share on social
Genius of a kind has always been with me; an empty heart that has taken on a certain wooden quality; an excellent, strong woman's body and a pitiably starved soul. Mary MacLane bodyemptyexcellent Change image and share on social
I want to write such things as compel the admiring acclamation of the world at large, such things as are written but once in years, things subtle but distinctly different from the books written every day. Mary MacLane acclamationadmirebook share on social
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. Mary MacLane booklonglove Change image and share on social
