She was becoming herself and daily casting aside that fictitious self which we assume like a garment with which to appear before the world. - Kate Chopin

Edna wondered if they had all gone mad, to be talking and clamoring at that rate. She herself could think of nothing to say about Mexico or the Mexicans.

She was moved by a kind of commiseration for Madame Ratignolle — a pity for that colorless existence which never uplifted its possessor beyond the region of blind contentment, in which no moment of anguish ever visited her soul, in which she would never have the taste of life's delirium.

She says a wedding is one of the most lamentable spectacles on earth.