“Bless those women; they never do anything by halves. They are always in earnest.”
“Stories are often told by men with little else to do, and spred by women who love the sound of their own voices.”
“The deeply irrational attitude of each sex toward women may be seen in novels, particularly in bad novels. In bad novels by men, there is the woman with whom the author is in love, who usually possesses every charm, but is somewhat helpless, and requires male protection; sometimes, however, like Shakespeare’s Cleopatra, she is an object of exasperated hatred, and is thought to be deeply and desperately wicked. In portraying the heroine, the male author does not write from observation, but merely objectifies his own emotions. In regard to his other female characters, he is more objective, and may even depend upon his notebook; but when he is in love, his passion makes a mist between him and the object of his devotion. Women novelists, also, have two kinds of women in their books. One is themselves, glamorous and kind, and object of lust to the wicked and of love to the good, sensitive, highsouled, and constantly misjudged. The other kind is represented by all other women, and is usually portrayed as petty, spiteful, cruel, and deceitful. It would seem that to judge women without bias is not easy either for men or for women.”
“The I am unhide-able. Taller than even my father with what Mami has aways said was a little too much body for a young girl. I am the baby fat that settled into D-cups and swinging hips so that the boys who called me a whale in middle school now ask me to send them pictures of myself in a thong. The other girls call me conceited. Ho. Thot. Fast. When your body takes up more room than your voice you are always the target of well-aimed rumors, which is why I let my knuckles talk for me. WHich is why I learned to shrug when my name is replaced by insults. I ve forced my skin just as thick as I am.”
“I get so tired of being a woman, because I can never seem to be done in the way that others want to do me. I just want to take my body off, hang it on a hook, and grab some air, because every stroke, whisper, request, poke, brush, smile, squeeze, lick, kiss, and breath can feel like a fight for territory.”
“Any Woman I am the pillars of the house; The keystone of the arch am I. Take me away, and roof and wall Would fall to ruin me utterly. I am the fire upon the hearth, I am the light of the good sun, I am the heat that warms the earth, Which else were colder than a stone. At me the children warm their hands; I am their light of love alive. Without me cold the hearthstone stands, Nor could the precious children thrive. I am the twist that holds together The children in its sacred ring, Their knot of love, from whose close tether No lost child goes a-wandering. I am the house from floor to roof, I deck the walls, the board I spread; I spin the curtains, warp and woof, And shake the down to be their bed. I am their wall against all danger, Their door against the wind and snow, Thou Whom a woman laid in a manger, Take me not till the children grow!”
“She tries to walk not too fast and not too slow. She doesn t want to attract any attention. She pretends she doesn t hear the whistles and catcalls and lewd comments. Sometimes she forgets and leaves her house in a skirt or a tank top because it s a warm day and she wants to feel warm air on her bare skin. Before long, she remembers. She keeps her keys in her hand, three of them held between her fingers, like a dull claw. She makes eye contact only when necessary and if a man should catch her eye, she juts her chin forward, makes sure the line of her jaw is strong. When she leaves work or the bar late, she calls a car service and when the car pulls up to her building, she quickly scans the street to make sure it s safe to walk the short distance from the curb to the door. She once told a boyfriend about these considerations and he said, You are completely out of your mind. She told a new friend at work and she said, Honey you re not crazy. You re a woman.”
“Le donne ci ispirano il desiderio di far dei capolavori e ci impediscono sempre di eseguirli”
“There are some things, many things in fact, that are beyond your control as a manager. This book is about doing what you can as a manager to have a meaningful impact on the day-to-day experience of the women who work for you.”
“She imagined that when she eventually arrived at her deathbed, she would feel more regret about her unborn children than her unwritten books.”
“La ginecologia pertany al llenguatge de les dones, a certa clandestinitat i misteri que rodeja dolors i sagnats que els homes sempre s han mirat de lluny.”