How we cite our quotes: (Sentence)
Quote #1
And always—do not forget this—you have got to fight weeds. You cannot have a garden, if you let weeds overrun it. (17-18)
This is a clip from Sanger's little known PBS series, Margaret Sanger: Master Gardener. Okay, we're kidding about that Master Gardener part. Sanger was worried about poor women having more kids than they could care for. Now, was she solely concerned with poor women's welfare, or did she also have some of that classic middle-class nervousness about large numbers of poor people eventually overthrowing them? It's hard to say, but her speeches and writings suggest it might have been a little of both.
Quote #2
The reception committee arouses itself heroically, establishes emergency measures: milk stations, maternity centers, settlement houses, playgrounds, orphanages, welfare leagues and every conceivable kind of charitable effort. But still trainloads of children keep on coming--human weeds crop up that spread so fast in this sinister struggle for existence, that the overworked committee becomes exhausted, inefficient and can think of no way out (26-27)
We get it, Margaret Sanger. This is a tough job. Still, it seems a little cold to refer to poor kids as "human weeds." Sanger would definitely get in a lot of trouble if she said that today, so score one for the 21st century. But, to be fair, Sanger was trying very hard to appeal to an upper middle-class audience—one that probably did see the poor as inferior.
Quote #3
First: "Mr. Father, a baby is an expensive luxury. Can you really afford one?"
"Have you paid for your last baby yet?" (75-76)
Hold on to your hats: the speaker in this quote is a baby, who despite being Unborn (yet), has a very good grasp of vocabulary and grammar. He or she (who are we kidding? in 1925, it's definitely "he.") wants to make sure there aren't a bunch of other kids already in this growing family and using up all of Daddy's sweet, sweet paycheck. Who is this kid, an IRS auditor?
Quote #4
"Can you provide a happy home for one? A sunny nursery? Proper food?"
"What's that you say? Ten children already? Two dark rooms in the slums?"
"No, thank you! I don't care to be born at all if I cannot be well-born. Good-bye!" (83-91)
The (unborn) baby is still interviewing his father, and wow, this kid sounds like a little snob. He doesn't want to be born unless his parents meet all Margaret Sanger's requirements for parenthood. We get it—we'd all like to be born with a silver spoon in our mouths, but this is a bit excessive. Still, look at where Sanger is coming from: a nursing career in the slums, where she no doubt saw children born into truly horrifying conditions. That's what's driving her, and why her insistence on limiting the size of poverty stricken families is so strong.