The intellectual is a middle-class product; if he is not born into the class he must soon insert himself into it, in order to exist. He is the fine nervous flower of the bourgeoisie. – Louise Bogan
But childhood prolonged, cannot remain a fairyland. It becomes a hell. – Louise Bogan
Women have no wilderness in them. They are provident instead content in the tight hot cell of their hearts. To eat dusty bread. – Louise Bogan
Because language is the carrier of ideas, it is easy to believe that it should be very little else than such a carrier. – Louise Bogan
What might be taken for a precocious genius is the genius of childhood. When the child grows up, it disappears without a trace. It may happen that this boy will become a real painter some day, or even a great painter. But then he will have to begin everything again, from zero. – Pablo Picasso