Women are tenacious, and all of them should be tenacious of respect; without esteem they cannot exist, esteem is the first demand that they make of love.
Women are not angels. They are as foolish as men in many ways; but they have had to devote themselves to life whilst men have had to devote themselves to death; and that makes a vital difference in male and female religion. Women have been forced to fear whilst men have been forced to dare: the heroism of a woman is to nurse and protect life, and of a man to destroy it and court death.
Women are never disarmed by compliments. Men always are. That is the difference between the two sexes.
Women are necessarily capable of almost anything in their struggle for survival and can scarcely be convicted of such man-made crimes as “cruelty.”
Women are like that they don’t acquire knowledge of people we are for that they are just born with a practical fertility of suspicion that makes a crop every so often and usually right they have an affinity for evil for supplying whatever the evil lacks in itself for drawing it about them instinctively as you do bed-clothing in slumber fertilising the mind for it until the evil has served its purpose whether it ever existed or no.
Women are in a manner true to themselves even through their grossest deceit, because their actions are prompted by a natural impulse.
Woman is, as one may fay, master, a certain animal hard to be known, and whose nature is greatly inclined to mischief.[La femme est, comme on dit, mon maître, Un certain animal difficile à connaître, Et de qui la nature est fort encline au mal.]