woman-s-strength

A society where feminine beauty is defined not by the human self on genuine intellectual and sentimental grounds, but by a computer software on the grounds of economic interest, is more dead than alive. It is a society of human bodies, not human beings.

If attempting to make the world a civilized one, makes you a bad woman in the eyes of the dumb patriarchal society, then, by all means, be it.

Any nation that does not learn to place women on the same pedestal of respect and dignity as men, will never in a thousand years attain greatness.

The world doesn't need a good woman who is meekly obedient to the uncivilized social norms that advocate female inferiority. The world needs those bad women who can think for themselves, to break the primeval norms of the society that consistently drag the human civilization back to the stone-age.

The representation of women in the society, especially through mass media has been the most delusional act ever done on the grounds of human existence.

Beauty is an illusion.

Women are no sheep.

Women are no sheep. Women are no fragile showpiece to be placed above the fire-place. Women of the thinking society are the builders of nations. Women of the sentient society are the builders of the world.

I__ loved women who were old and who were young; those extra kilos and large rumps, and others so thin there was barely even skin to pinch, and every time I held them, I worried I would snap them in two. But for all of these: where they had merited my love was in their delicious smell. Scent is such a powerful tool of attraction, that if a woman has this tool perfectly tuned, she needs no other. I will forgive her a large nose, a cleft lip, even crossed-eyes; and I__l bathe in the jouissance of her intoxicating odour.

Scent is such a powerful tool of attraction, that if a woman has this tool perfectly tuned, she needs no other. I will forgive her a large nose, a cleft lip, even crossed-eyes; and I__l bathe in the jouissance of her intoxicating odour.

On Saturday evening, August 5, 2017, FAPA announced and presented awards to the 2017 medalists at the FAPA President__ Book Awards Banquet that was held in the Hilton Hotel at Disney World in Orlando, Florida. Captain Hank Backer__ book __uppressed I Rise_ is the true story of Adeline Perry and her daughters_ saga in Nazi Germany. Evading evil forces that almost proved to be overwhelming, it begins when she left South Africa, her native country, and accompanied her German husband to a strange, foreboding and foreign country. Adapted from Adeline Perry__ original notes and manuscripts and her daughters_ reflections, Captain Hank Bracker, originally from Germany, reveals how the young mother survived through bombings and dangerous situations with her two children. __uppressed I Rise_ was recognized with three awards at the FAPA Banquet: a Bronze Medal for __onfiction for Young Adults,_ a Silver Medal for __olitical/Current Events_ and the coveted Gold Medal for __iography.

I prefer people to consider me by who I am and what I do and not by how I look!

Acorn struggles in pain to crack the hard shell and emerge. For it senses that out there_ exists more and it knows it. It feels that there is a sun, even if Acorn hasn't seen it. It has felt some warmth and energy and it aches for more.

A strong man can handle a strong woman. A weak man will say she has an attitude.

Mature Woman: Is a woman who has lived her life enough to understand what she wants, and she is confident in knowing who she is without question.

I was exhausted and had to rely on Herr Schreiner to help me and knew in my soul that God had sent him to my aid. As tired as I was, I couldn__ have handled my luggage alone. Finally another train did pull into the station but in stark contrast to the empty platform we were standing on, the train was completely full of people. Although he wasn__ that big of a man, Herr Schreiner pushed my suitcases up the two steps into the railway car, and I climbed up behind them. As the train left the station, he hung onto the two entrance handles right behind me and I pushed for space, trying to make enough room for him to get into the carriage. With every surge of the train I expected him to lose his grip but with what I am certain was superhuman strength, he hung on as the train picked up speed. Several of the people made snide remarks but I turned a deaf ear to this and pushed as hard as I could, so that he could also get in. With the help of another man pulling on his coat, Herr Schreiner finally managed to squeeze in far enough so that we could close the door behind him. Once safely on the train, someone from his school in Mannheim recognized him. Herr Schreiner had been a very popular, much admired school principal and seeing how tired and bedraggled we now looked, the passenger offered us his window seats and helped to make room so that we could store our suitcases in the luggage rack above our heads. The train didn__ make any more stops and continued east crossing the Rhine River Bridge, which miraculously was still there. I couldn__ believe that everything had come together as well as it had, and that I was on my way back to _berlingen and my children.

We're connected, as women. It's like a spiderweb. If one part of that web vibrates, if there's trouble, we all know it, but most of the time we're just too scared, or selfish, or insecure to help. But if we don't help each other, who will?

She is a beauty. She is a challenge. She is the earth. She is the nature.She is the power that keeps the balance of this world. Respect her wisdom and be intimidated by her power.