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. It was a technical Marxist subject and I did not understand… — Agnes Smedley Copy Share Image
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. The subjects treated were technical Marxist theories. — Agnes Smedley Copy Share Image
So I had to be the doctor to these wounded men until we could remove them to the hospital. There were fifty-four women and… — Agnes Smedley Copy Share Image
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… — Agnes Smedley Copy Share Image
Now, being a girl, I was ashamed of my body and my lack of strength. So I tried to be a man. I shot,… — Agnes Smedley Copy Share Image
But he like my mother, had certainly come to know that those who work the most do not make the most money. It was… — Agnes Smedley Copy Share Image
To die would have been beautiful. But I belong to those who do not die for the sake of beauty. — Agnes Smedley Copy Share Image
“...we live this one brief and precious hour called Life; ...it is not in keeping with the nobility of existence to keep other human… — Agnes Smedley Copy Share Image
Thousands of women are crushed and made inarticulate by that system and never develop as their natures would force them to develop were they… — Agnes Smedley Copy Share Image
What a couple. I'm consumed into ashes. And he's always raking up the ashes and setting them on fire again. — Agnes Smedley Copy Share Image
New York was a new and strange world. Vast, impersonal, merciless.... Always before I had felt like a person, an individual, hopeful that I… — Agnes Smedley Copy Share Image
No one yet knows what a man's province is, and how far that province, as conceived of today, is artificial. — Agnes Smedley Copy Share Image
I have loved and bitterness left me for that hour. But there are times when love itself is bitter. — Agnes Smedley Copy Share Image
Subjection of any kind and in any place is beneath the dignity of man ... the highest joy is to fight by the side… — Agnes Smedley Copy Share Image
