The mother-women seemed to prevail that summer at Grand Isle. It was easy to know them, fluttering about with extended, protecting wings when any har….

There was no despondency when she fell asleep that night; nor was there hope when she awoke in the morning..

Do you suppose a woman knows why she loves? Does she select? Does she say to herself, 'Go to! here is a distinguished statesman with presidential pos….

She turned her face seaward to gather in an impression of space and solitude, which the vast expanse of water, meeting and melting with the moonlit s….

She was still under the spell of her infatuation. She had tried to forget him, realizing the inutility of remembering. But the thought of him was lik….

She missed him the days when some pretext served to take him away from her, just as one misses the sun on a cloudy day without having thought much ab….

In the procession I should feel the crushing feet, the clashing discords, the ruthless hands and stifling breath. I could not hear the rhythm of the ….

It was not despair, but it seemed to her as if life were passing by, leaving its promises broken and unfulfilled. Yet there were other days when she ….

There were days when she was unhappy, she did not know why,--when it did not seem worthwhile to be glad or sorry, to be alive or dead; when life appe….

There would be no one there to live for her during those coming years; she would live for herself. There would be no powerful will bending hers in th….

The past was nothing to her; offered no lesson which she was willing to heed. The future was a mystery which she never attempted to penetrate. The pr….

Why?" asked her companion. "Why do you love him when you ought not to?" Edna, with a motion or two, dragged herself on her knees before Mademoiselle ….

I'm going to pull myself together for a while and think-try to determine what character of a woman I am; for, candidly, I don't know. By all the code….

She was flushed and felt intoxicated with the sound of her own voice and the unaccustomed taste of candor. It muddled her like wine, or like a first ….

To be an artist includes much; one must possess many gifts - absolute gifts - which have not been acquired by one's own effort. And, moreover, to suc….

You have been a very foolish boy, wasting your time dreaming of impossible things when you speak of Mr. Pontellier setting me free! I am no longer on….

The city atmosphere certainly has improved her. Some way she doesn't seem like the same woman..

I would give up the unessential; I would give up my money, I would give up my life for my children; but I wouldnt give myself. I can't make it more c….

The voice of the sea speaks to the soul..

I'm tired," she uttered complainingly. "I know you are." "You don't know anything about it. Why should you know? I never was so exhausted in my life.….

The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace..