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Quote by Amy Leigh Mercree

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Amy Leigh Mercree

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“Life with Ilona was invariably lived on two levels, or rather in two simultaneous and parallel directions. On the one hand, your feet were always on the ground, you were always intelligently but not obsessively alert to what each day offered in response to the routine question of surviving. On the other hand, imagination and unbounded fantasy suggested a spontaneous and unexpected sequence of scenarios that were always aimed at the radical subversion of every law ever written or established. This was a permanent, organic, rigorous subversion that never permitted travel on the beaten path, the road preferred by most people, the traditional patterns that offer protection to those whom Ilona, without emphasis or pride but without any concessions either, would call "the others.”

LifeWomenIndependence
Book:The Adventures and Misadventures of Maqroll
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“- Мне кажется, - начал я вслух, - что женщины в наше время довольно свободны... - Чем же свободны? Может ли, например, женщина выйти или не выйти замуж? - Конечно, может. - Нет, не может, потому что над ней сейчас станут смеяться, назовут старою девушкою, скажут, что она зла; родные будут сердиться, тяготиться; на это не достанет никакого терпения. Диалог Лидии Николаевны Ваньковской и автора. - А.Ф. Писемский "Виновата ли она?”

Womenженщины
Book:Повести о любви. Сборник в двух томах. Том первый
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“America is now wholly given over to a damned mob of scribbling women, and I should have no chance of success while the public taste is occupied with their trash--and should be ashamed of myself if I did succeed. What is the mystery of these innumberable editions of The Lamplighter (by Maria Susanna Cummins), and other books neither better nor worse? Worse they could not be, and better they need not be, when they sell by the hundred thousand.”

HumorWomenAmerican
Author:Nathaniel Hawthorne
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“During the 1992 election I concluded as early as my first visit to New Hampshire that Bill Clinton was hateful in his behavior to women, pathological as a liar, and deeply suspect when it came to money in politics. I have never had to take any of that back, whereas if you look up what most of my profession was then writing about the beefy, unscrupulous 'New Democrat,' you will be astonished at the quantity of sheer saccharine and drool. Anyway, I kept on about it even after most Republicans had consulted the opinion polls and decided it was a losing proposition, and if you look up the transcript of the eventual Senate trial of the president—only the second impeachment hearing in American history—you will see that the last order of business is a request (voted down) by the Senate majority leader to call Carol and me as witnesses. So I can dare to say that at least I saw it through.”

PoliticsWomenMoneyHistoryUnited StatesLiesCorruptionTrialsSexismMisogynyElectionsPathologyImpeachmentNew HampshirePresidentsChauvinismBill ClintonUs Presidents1992Impeachment Of Bill ClintonUs SenateRepublican Party UsCarol BlueDemocratic Party UsNew DemocratsUs Presidential Election 1992
Book:Hitch 22: A Memoir
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“The girl's life had been squandered in the streets, and among the most noisome of the stews and dens of London, but there was something of the woman's original nature left in her still; and when she heard a light step approaching the door opposite to that by which she had entered, and thought of the wide contrast which the small room would in another moment contain, she felt burdened with the sense of her own deep shame: and shrunk as though she could scarcely bear the presence of her with whom she had sought this interview.”

WomenShameInferiorityChaste
Book:Oliver Twist
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“But usually not. Usually she thinks of the path to his house, whether deer had eaten the tops of the fiddleheads, why they don't eat the peppermint saprophytes sprouting along the creek; or she visualizes the approach to the cabin, its large windows, the fuchsias in front of it where Anna's hummingbirds always hover with dirty green plumage and jeweled throats. Sometimes she thinks about her dream, the one in which her mother wakes up with no hands. The cabin smells of oil paint, but also of pine. The painter's touch is sexual and not sexual, as she herself is....When the memory of that time came to her, it was touched by strangeness because it formed no pattern with the other events in her life. It lay in her memory like one piece of broken tile, salmon-coloured or the deep green of wet leaves, beautiful in itself but unusable in the design she was making”

PoetrySexWomen
Book:Human Wishes
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