I want to write such things as compel the admiring acclamation of the world at large, such things as are written but once in years, things subtle but distinctly different from the books written every day. — Mary MacLane Copy Share Image
When I was three years old I was taken with my family to a little town in Western Minnesota, where I lived a more or less vapid and ordinary life until I was ten. — Mary MacLane Copy Share Image
I want fame more than I can tell. But more than I want fame I want happiness. — Mary MacLane Copy Share Image
Fame is indeed beautiful and benign and gentle and satisfying, but happiness is something at once tender and brilliant beyond all things. — Mary MacLane Copy Share Image
“I Don’t Know whether lust is a human coarseness or a human fineness: I don’t know why death holds a so sweet lure since… — Mary MacLane Copy Share Image
Are there many things in this cool-hearted world so utterly exquisite as the pure love of one woman for another woman? — Mary MacLane Copy Share Image
“It is of the dubious inevitable side of human nature—like gold teeth and tinned salmon and bastard lacy valentines” — Mary MacLane Copy Share Image
I am not good. I am not virtuous. I am not sympathetic. I am not generous. I am merely and above all a creature… — Mary MacLane Copy Share Image
“And it is in New York I have those strangest things of all: human friendships. Not many friendships and not of spent familiarities: for… — Mary MacLane Copy Share Image
“May I never, I say, become that abnormal, merciless animal, that deformed monstrosity— a virtuous woman. Anything, Devil, but that.” — Mary MacLane Copy Share Image
Genius of a kind has always been with me; an empty heart that has taken on a certain wooden quality; an excellent, strong woman's… — Mary MacLane Copy Share Image
