The revolutionary woman knows the world she seeks to overthrow is precisely one in which love between equal human beings is well nigh impossible. We are still part of the ironical working-out of this, our own cruel contradiction. One of the most compelling facts which can unite women and make us act is the overwhelming indignity or bitter hurt of being regarded as simply __he other_, __n object_, __ommodity_, __hing_. We act directly from a consciousness of the impossibility of loving or being loved without distortion. But we must still demand now the preconditions of what is impossible at the moment. It is a most disturbing dialectic, our praxis of pain.
Cursed luck! __aid he, biting his lip as he shut the door, __or man to be master of one of the finest chains of reasoning in nature, __nd have a wife at the same time with such a head-piece, that he cannot hang up a single inference within side of it, to save his soul from destruction.
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Cursed luck! __aid he, biting his lip as he shut the door, __or man to be master of one of the finest chains of reasoning in nature, __nd have a wife at the same time with such a head-piece, that he cannot hang up a single inference within side of it, to save his soul from destruction.
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Pero me sobran motivos para ser feliz. Sobre todo cuando estoy en los brazos de mis tres misses. Son tres gentiles damas a las que se llega cuando las cosas adquieren una claridad inusitada: Miss Antropía, Miss Oginia y Miss Eria; pero no las comparto, como hago con el resto de mis mujeres.
When a Wanderess has been caged, or perched with her wings clipped, She lives like a Stoic, She lives most heroic, smiling with ruby, moistened lips once her cup of Death is welcome sipped.
A truly happy woman drives some men and almost every other woman absolutely crazy
They call good evil and evil good. There are those who are so easily offended that they lose their ability to ever discern any truth, and this is often derived from a sort of frenzy by way of their own masked prejudice.
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