Yet it is awful to love a person who is a torture to you. And a fascinating person who loves you and won’t hear of anything but your loving him and living right by his side through all eternity!
AGNES SMEDLEYTo die would have been beautiful. But I belong to those who do not die for the sake of beauty.
More Agnes Smedley Quotes
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When I was a girl, the West was still young, and the law of force, of physical force, was dominant.
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And the woman who could win the respect of man was often the woman who could knock him down with her bare fists and sit on him until he yelled for help.
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I was ashamed of them and their ways of life. But now – yes, I love them; they are a part of my blood; they, with all their virtues and their faults, played a great part in forming my way of looking at life.
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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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So I had to be the doctor to these wounded men until we could remove them to the hospital.
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Gambling in the mark has been the great indoor sport of the capitalists for months, and consequently food has increased by 25 to 100 per cent.
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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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But I see no reason why a woman should not grow and develop in all those outlets which are suited to her nature, it matters not at all what they may be.
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I joined another circle and the leader gave us a little leaflet in very small print, asking us to read it carefully and then come prepared to ask questions.
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New York was a new and strange world. Vast, impersonal, merciless.
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Subjection of any kind and in any place is beneath the dignity of man.
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Thousands of women are crushed and made inarticulate by that system and never develop as their natures would force them to develop were they in a decent environment.
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But settled things were enemies to me and soon lost their newness and color. The unknown called.
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The subjects treated were technical Marxist theories.
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But here in New York I was ignorant, insignificant, unimportant–one in millions whose destiny concerned no one. New York did not even know of my existence. Nor did it care.
AGNES SMEDLEY