I want to write a universal truism that won’t be blurred by body language, cultural confusion, or translation mishaps, so I want to bypass language—both verbal and nonverbal—and leap to pure concept where all men can be reached, or stoop down t...
What we suffer from today is humility in the wrong place. Modesty has moved from the organ of ambition and settled upon the organ of conviction, where it was never meant to be. A man was meant to be doubtful about himself, but undoubting about the tr...
My momma says we don’t need a man to do our chores for us, ’cause we are smart and capable and I believe her even though Sara’s mom says men were born to be our slaves, we just have to know how to manage them.
He kisses me once more, on the forehead this time, and then he's gone. And I know I'm young, and fairly inexperienced where men are concerned, but I'm positive that even when I'm 90 years old I'll still remember exactly what it feels like to have his...
One of the cafés had that brilliant idea of putting up a slogan: 'the best protection against infection is a good bottle of wine', which confirmed an already prevalent opinion that alcohol is a safeguard against infectious disease. Every night, towa...
As the beautiful does not exist for the artist and poet alone—though these can find in it more poignant depths of meaning than other men—so the world of Reality exists for all; and all may participate in it, unite with it, according to their meas...
But if, in despotic statecraft, the supreme and essential mystery be to hoodwink the subjects, and to mask the fear, which keeps them down, with the specious garb of religion, so that men may fight as bravely for slavery as for safety, and count it n...
I have an idea that the only thing which makes it possible to regard this world we live in without disgust is the beauty which now and then men create out of the chaos. The pictures they paint, the music they compose, the books they write, and the li...
I made art a philosophy, and philosophy an art: I altered the minds of men, and the colour of things: I awoke the imagination of my century so that it created myth and legend around me: I summed up all things in a phrase, all existence in an epigram:...
Are you telling me in your own gentle way to stop whining?" "Yes." "I don't feel like a hero. I feel like an idiot." "I think heroes generally do, but those men believe in you." "I did wait until I was outside before I threw up.
Time has its revenges, but revenge seems so often sour. Wouldn’t we all do better not trying to understand, accepting the fact that no human being will ever understand another, not a wife with a husband, nor a parent a child? Perhaps that’s why m...
What if she's all I give you in this life of ours, my love?" she asked quietly. "Then I'll shout at the goddess in fury," he said fiercely. "I'll beg to know why I've been given so much when other men have so little.
The process of secularisation arises not from the loss of faith but from the loss of social interest in the world of faith. It begins the moment men feel that religion is irrelevant to the common way of life and that society as such has nothing to do...
No doubt my books too, like my mortal being, would eventually die, one day. But one has to resign oneself to dying. One accepts the thought that in ten years oneself, in a hundred years one's books, will not exist. Eternal duration is no more promise...
You know what would really help? If men started looking at it like a bank. The more you deposit the more you can withdraw later. Make a woman come as a rule, she’s going to be more receptive to regular sex and much more open-minded about what’s o...
He's definitely not one for negotiation, no matter how hard I've tried." "You try asking him naked?" Tess choked on her Irish coffee. "I beg your pardon?" "Men can't think straight when a woman's naked. Something about their brain cells getting jumbl...
George MacDonald gives me renewed strength during times of trouble--times when I have seen people tempted to deny God--when he says, "The Son of God suffered unto death, not that men might not suffer, but that their sufferings might be like his.
Tell the story, gather the events, repeat them. Pattern is a matter of upkeep. Otherwise the weave relaxes back to threads picked up by birds to make their nests. Repeat, or the story will fall and all the king's horses and all the king's men. . . . ...
I know you didn’t see the violence and need for control in him in the beginning, but I’m sure it was there. Nothing you did turned him into such an abusive man. And you … well, you just didn’t see your own value before that. It’s an easy th...
Those candle flames were like the lives of men. So fragile. So deadly. Left alone, they lit and warmed. Let run rampant, they would destroy the very things they were meant to illuminate. Embryonic bonfires, each bearing a seed of destruction so poten...
As long as we see abusers as victims, or as out-of-control monsters, they will continue getting away with ruining lives. If we want abusers to change, we will have to require them to give up the luxury of exploitation.
