The whole argument with the anti-suffragists, or even the critical suffragist man, is this: that you can govern human beings without their consent.

I was fourteen years old when I went to my first suffrage meeting. Returning from school one day, I met my mother just setting out for the meeting, and I begged her to let me go along.

Holloway Prison is a very old place, and it has the disadvantages of old places which have never known enough air and sunshine. It reeks with the odours of generations of bad ventilation, and it contrives to be at once the stuffiest and the draughtiest building I have ever been in.

Not by the forces of civil war can you govern the very weakest woman. You can kill that woman, but she escapes you then; you cannot govern her. No power on earth can govern a human being, however feeble, who withholds his or her consent.

I am happiest when I'm sitting on my parent's couch with the fire place on and talking to my family.

I try to keep in mind that it's a long journey. It's not a race. It's about staying focused, continuing to do good work, make my family and community proud; that's all I really want to do... and pay my bills.

People love the idea of a good girl gone bad, thinking that my parents were so strict and disowned me, but that actually wasn't the case. Even though they don't necessarily agree with some of the things I do, they love me as their daughter. That's always been their perspective.

You don't have to give birth to someone to have a family.