“Most of the women who have offered themselves for public office over the years have done so, I believe, more because of the ‘dirt’ than in spite of it.”

Do not rely completely on any other human being, however dear. We meet all life’s greatest tests alone.

I do not want to be the angel of any home: I want for myself what I want for other women, absolute equality. After that is secured, then men and women can take turns being angels.

The way to get things out of a government is to back them to the wall, put your hands to their throats, and you will get all they have.

Patriotism is not dying for one’s country, it is living for one’s country. And for humanity. Perhaps that is not as romantic, but it’s better.

I asked them to sit down since I’d come to walk around. I didn’t want them doing me favours.

Whatever is dirty, it is women’s job to clean up, or drive some man to clean up, and that goes for everything from cellar to senate.

If the preservation of the home means the enslavement of women, economically or morally, then we had better break it.

I suggest that there is a splendid way out of the difficulty of marriage, and that is my way – stay out.

I want for myself what I want for other women, absolute equality.

It is a fact that all women contribute more to marriage than men for the most part they have to change their place of living, their method of work, a great many women today changing their occupation entirely on marriage and they must even change their name.

When I first came to the House of Commons and walked out into the lobby, men sprang to their feet.

We meet all life’s greatest tests alone.

I believe the preservation of the home in the future lies almost entirely in the hands of men.

A boy is Truth with dirt on its face, Beauty with a cut on its finger, Wisdom with bubble gum in its hair and the Hope of the future with a frog in its pocket.

Every night for dinner we had a big chunk of dirt.

It is almost impossible to throw dirt on someone without getting a little on yourself

The Devil is like a strainer that separates the mud from the gold.

To truly taste the sweetness of the fruit, you must love the dirt it grows from.

I didn’t mean to hit the umpire with the dirt, but I did mean to hit that bastard in the stands.

Turning pain into poetry turns rainy days into rainbows and raw dirt into meadows.

It takes a great deal of courage to emerge from the dirt and the hurt and grow and bloom into petals of kindness and love.