In my time and neighborhood (and in my soul) there was only one standard by which a woman measured success: did some man want her? — Jessamyn West Copy Share Image
There is no royal path to good writing; and such paths as exist do not lead through neat critical gardens, various as they are,… — Jessamyn West Copy Share Image
Being consistent meant not departing from convictions already formulated; being a leader meant making other persons accept these convictions. It was a narrow track,… — Jessamyn West Copy Share Image
To meet at all, one must open ones eyes to another; and there is no true conversation no matter how many words are spoken,… — Jessamyn West Copy Share Image
In their sympathies, children feel nearer animals than adults. They frolic with animals, caress them, share with them feelings neither has words for. Have… — Jessamyn West Copy Share Image
The past is really almost as much a work of the imagination as the future. — Jessamyn West Copy Share Image
Writing is so difficult that I feel that writers, having had their hell on earth, will escape all punishment hereafter. — Jessamyn West Copy Share Image
We can love an honest rogue, but what is more offensive than a false saint? — Jessamyn West Copy Share Image
I seem to be the only person in the world who doesn't mind being pitied. If you love me, pity me. The human state… — Jessamyn West Copy Share Image
I am always jumping into the sausage grinder and deciding, even before I’m half ground, that I don’t want to be a sausage after… — Jessamyn West Copy Share Image
You make what seems a simple choice: choose a man or a job or a neighborhood- and what you have chosen is not a… — Jessamyn West Copy Share Image
