"Oh,dear! To say nothing of human beings,it would be better to be an ox,better to be a humble horse as long as you can work,than a young woman who wakes at twelve o'clock,then has coffee in bed,then spends two hours dressing..."
Sayfa 11Kitabı okuyor
Sacred and Terrible Smell
What was that sacred and terrible, elusive smell in the air this time? My name is Ambrosius Saint-Miro, the locals call me “Ambrosius Pyhä-Mirä” and in Graad they call me “Svjata-Mira”. “Diduska?” they ask, their eyes wide with affection, but I answer them: “No. I am not your diduska.” I am Ambrosius Santa-Mira from Mesque, Ambrosio Hagiamira, I
Sayfa 60 - Unofficial English TranslationKitabı okudu
Most women, holding on for dear life, do not dare abandon blind faith. From father’s house to husband’s house to a grave that still might not be her own, a woman acquiesces to male authority in order to gain some protection from male violence. She conforms, in order to be as safe as she can be. Sometimes it is a lethargic conformity, in which case male demands slowly close in on her, as if she were a character buried alive in an Edgar Allan Poe story. Sometimes it is a militant conformity. She will save herself by proving that she is loyal, obedient, useful, even fanatic in the service of the men around her. She is the happy hooker, the happy homemaker, the exemplary Christian, the pure academic, the perfect comrade, the terrorist par excellence. Whatever the values, she will embody them with a perfect fidelity. The males rarely keep their part of the bargain as she understands it: protection from male violence against her person. But the militant conformist has given so much of herself—her labor, heart, soul, often her body, often children—that this betrayal is akin to nailing the coffin shut; the corpse is beyond caring.
from Professions for Women by Virginia Woolf
(refers to the phantom; angel in the house) she slipped behind me and whispered: "My dear, you are a young woman. You are writing about a book that has been written by a man. Be sympathetic; be tender; flatter; deceive; use all the arts and wiles of our sex. Never let anybody guess that you have a mind of your own. Above all, be pure." And she made as if to guide my pen.
-She was utterly unselfish.
she doesnt have any colour, identity of her own. she has to sacricifice her for her family if we gave from ourself too much people take it that as it guaranteed. according to patriarchal system this angelic features programmed into the dna of woman.
Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, is the immediate jewel of their souls.
“Having nothing more to say, I go to find the woman who taught me what love truly means.”
“What I don’t tell her is I’m increasingly convinced I want her to be the last woman I kiss, the only one.”
It is a woman's nature to be constant-to love one and one only, blindly, tenderly, and
for ever-bless them, dear creatures!
Fred, you next," the plump woman said.
"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"
"Sorry, George, dear."
"Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy and off he went.
"My dear boy," said Lord Henry in his lazy voice, "no woman is extraordinarily clever. Women have nothing to say, but they said it beautifully.
Woman was dear to him, but music was dearer.
Sayfa 38 - Wordsworth Classics
