There exists in the minds of men a tone of feeling toward women as toward slaves.
The injury therefore that we do to a man must be such that we need not fear his vengeance.[L’offesa che si fa all’uomo, deve essere in modo, che ella non tema la vendetta.]
The earth does not want new continents, but new men.[Ce ne sont pas de nouveaux continents qu’il faut à la terre, mais de nouveaux hommes!]
The amount of women in London who flirt with their own husbands is perfectly scandalous.
Still we live meanly, like ants; though the fable tells us that we were long ago changed into men.
Men can’t own the land no more’n they can own the sea or the sky.
Have you any notion of how many books are written about women in the course of one year? Have you any notion how many are written by men? Are you aware that you are, perhaps, the most discussed animal in the universe?
Women are better at keeping secrets, but men are more comfortable with them.
This is how warlike men assuage their consciences—by talk of glory.
There would be far less suffering amongst mankind, if men—and God knows why they are so fashioned—did not employ their imaginations so assiduously in recalling the memory of past sorrow, instead of bearing their present lot with equanimity.
There is a price for being good the same as for being bad; a cost to pay. And it’s the good men that can’t deny the bill when it comes around. They can’t deny it, like the honest man that gambles. The bad men can deny it; that’s why don’t anybody expect them to pay on sight or any other time. But the good can’t.
There comes a turning point in intense physical struggle where one abandons oneself to a profligate usage of strength and bodily resource, ignoring the costs until the struggle is over. Women find this point in childbirth; men in battle.
