“Subjection of any kind and in any place is beneath the dignity of man.”

I have no objection to a man being a man, however masculine that may be.

The subjects treated were technical Marxist theories.

I believe only in money, not in love or tenderness. Love and tenderness meant only pain and suffering and defeat.

Always before I had felt like a person, an individual, hopeful that I could mold my life according to some desire of my own.

But settled things were enemies to me and soon lost their newness and color. The unknown called.

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.

So I had to be the doctor to these wounded men until we could remove them to the hospital.

My mother listened to all the news from the camp during the strike.

Much that we read of Russia is imagination and desire only.

Friendship is far more human.

Now, being a girl, I was ashamed of my body and my lack of strength. So I tried to be a man.

To die would have been beautiful. But I belong to those who do not die for the sake of beauty.

I would not let it ruin me as it ruined others! I would speak only with money, hard money.

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.

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

It was a technical Marxist subject and I did not understand it nor did I know what questions to ask.

I have spent my tenure in office – and, in fact, my adult lifetime – fighting for things that I care deeply about. And as anyone who knows me will tell you, I do not back down from tough fights.

I have always felt sympathy towards the biologists who accept to debate creationists. Now I also understand them better; one can fight opinions, not articles of faith.

Yes, I was in that game where George Brett hit that home run. Billy saw there was too much pine tar on the bat and he went to the umpire, the next thing we knew they were fighting about it.

What happens in Senate fight club stays in Senate fight club.

Anybody who thinks I’m taking this fight for a paycheck doesn’t know me. My whole life I’ve been achieving the impossible.

The forces of moderation and democracy must, and will, prevail against extremism and dictatorship. I will not be intimidated… Despite threats of death, I will not acquiesce to tyranny, but rather lead the fight against it.

I’m interested in questions my son asks me, like, “Why do animals fight? Why do you have to leave us to go on the road?” Everything he asks gets me thinking.

I know animals more gallant than the African warthog, but none more courageous. He is the peasant of the plains – the drab and dowdy digger in the earth.