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Henny “was one of those women who secretly symphathize with all women against all men; life was a rotten deal, with men holding all the aces.
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Each Australian is a Ulysses.
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What a dreary stodgy world of adults the children saw when they went out!
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She saw her husband for the first time: she had married a child whose only talent was an air of engaging helplessness by which he got the protection of certain goodhearted people
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The world would not let him rave, this was the great injustice he suffered from: he stalked up and down being angry, in futility;
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I’m an old woman, your mother’s an old woman, so I’ll be an old woman, and I’ll do what I please.
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The waste, the insane freaks of these money men, the cynicism and egotism of their life... I'll show that they are not brilliant, not romantic, not delightful, not intelligent.
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Sam,' said Saul fervently, 'when you talk, you know you create a world.
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When we are born, we are studied, and deviations, if noxious to the species, are suppressed; good deviations are preserved. And furthermore, we bear our formula on our arm band!
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You will never break up my home. I know that’s been your object for years and the aim of all your secret maneuvers. I love my children as no man ever loved his before. I know men love their children, but mine are bound up in me, part of me.
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Don’t call humans rats - rats are superior.
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Money that is in billions and monopolies isn't money at all, because the people have none, and money is democratic, everyone has to have some or there's none at all.
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A mother! What are we worth really? They all grow up whether you look after them or not. That poor miserable brat of his is growing up, and I certainly licked the hide off her; and she's seen marriage at its worst, and now she's dreaming about 'supermen' and 'great men'. What is the good of doing anything for them?
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She said, her children should not live on trash, her children had to fight for their livings, having such a silly, puffed-up ignoramus of a father, her girls were not going to be underfed “mud rats.”
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She is never more herself than when she destroys herself.
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All new money is made through the shifting of social classes and the dispossession of old classes.
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Tolstoy said that “each unhappy family is unhappy in a way of its own
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A mother! What are we worth really? They all grow up whether you look after them or not.
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The children hid themselves, with receptive ears, round corners.
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I love you, I love men and women, I love little children and all innocent things, I love, I feel I am love itself - how could I pick out a woman who would hate me so much!
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Where, in all the self-righteous lying world, could she turn for a friend? She even thought angrily of her children - they were simply eating up her flesh as they had when they were at the breast, no less.
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I saw my entire life a waste, a desert of shame and unspeakable sorrow, and behind me, a suicided wife!
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Money is a jealous mistress If you want money you must want only money. ... I must tell you the one secret of life, there is only one: everything is a jealous mistress, everything is terribly possessive, and, by God, we want to be terribly possessed if we want to get somewhere - and we want to be terribly possessed - anyhow; or what is life?
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Our old age is perhaps life’s decision about us - or, worse, the decision we have made about ourselves without ever realizing we were making it.