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.

The works I made at the start of my career rely on the themes of war, atomic power, and outer space.

People have a very political way of looking at war, and that's understandable.

Peace for us means the destruction of Israel. We are preparing for an all-out war, a war which will last for generations.

If, by some miracle, women should not ever utter a single protest against their condition, there would still exist among men those who could not endure in peace until her liberation had been achieved.