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I have loved and bitterness left me for that hour. But there are times when love itself is bitter.

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Bitter Bitterness Hour Itself Loved Tiem

Bagwalas

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She said little, especially when my father or the men who worked for him were about I remember her instinctive and unhesitating sympathy for the miners.
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New York was a new and strange world. Vast, impersonal, merciless.
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I shot, rode, jumped, and took part in all the fights of the boys.
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There were fifty-four women and forty little boys with the Red Army prisoners, and I went daily to take care of them also.
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I forgot the songs they sung – and most of those songs are now dead; I erased their dialect from my tongue.
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The highest joy is to fight by the side of those who for any reason of their own making or ours, are unable to develop to full human stature.
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In the little hall leading to it was a rack holding various Socialist or radical newspapers, tracts, and pamphlets in very small print and on very bad paper.
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Friendship is far more human.
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Now, being a girl, I was ashamed of my body and my lack of strength. So I tried to be a man.
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Like all my family and class, I considered it a sign of weakness to show affection; to have been caught kissing my mother would have been a disgrace, and to have shown affection for my father would have been a disaster.
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