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Home Inspirational Quotes An injury is much sooner forgotten than an insult.

Inspirational Quotes

An injury is much sooner forgotten than an insult.

Polly, January 28, 2013

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Tags : Philip Dormer Stanhope

There is a Spanish proverb, which says very justly, Tell me whom you live with, and I will tell you wo you are.

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The knowledge of the world is only to be acquired in the world, and not in a closet.

Polly

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The power of imagination makes us infinite.

The power of imagination makes us infinite.

Maybe I couldn’t make it. Maybe I don’t have a pretty smile, good teeth, nice tits, long legs, a cheeky ass, a sexy voice. Maybe I don’t know how to handle men and increase my market value, so that the rewards due to the feminine will accrue to me. Then again, maybe I’m sick of the masquerade. I’m sick of pretending eternal youth. I’m sick of belying my own intelligence, my own will, my own sex. I’m sick of peering at the world through false eyelashes, so everything I see is mixed with a shadow of bought hairs; I’m sick of weighting my head with a dead mane, unable to move my neck freely, terrified of rain, of wind, of dancing too vigorously in case I sweat into my lacquered curls. I’m sick of the Powder Room. I’m sick of pretending that some fatuous male’s self-important pronouncements are the objects of my undivided attention, I’m sick of going to films and plays when someone else wants to, and sick of having no opinions of my own about either. I’m sick of being a transvestite. I refuse to be a female impersonator. I am a woman, not a castrate.

Maybe I couldn’t make it. Maybe I don’t have a pretty smile, good teeth, nice tits, long legs, a cheeky ass, a sexy voice. Maybe I don’t know how to handle men and increase my market value, so that the rewards due to the feminine will accrue to me. Then again, maybe I’m sick of the masquerade. I’m sick of pretending eternal youth. I’m sick of belying my own intelligence, my own will, my own sex. I’m sick of peering at the world through false eyelashes, so everything I see is mixed with a shadow of bought hairs; I’m sick of weighting my head with a dead mane, unable to move my neck freely, terrified of rain, of wind, of dancing too vigorously in case I sweat into my lacquered curls. I’m sick of the Powder Room. I’m sick of pretending that some fatuous male’s self-important pronouncements are the objects of my undivided attention, I’m sick of going to films and plays when someone else wants to, and sick of having no opinions of my own about either. I’m sick of being a transvestite. I refuse to be a female impersonator. I am a woman, not a castrate.

You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.

You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.

Never part without loving words to think of during your absence. It may be that you will not meet again in this life.

Never part without loving words to think of during your absence. It may be that you will not meet again in this life.

I believe there’s an inner power that makes winners or losers. And the winners are the ones who really listen to the truth of their hearts.

I believe there’s an inner power that makes winners or losers. And the winners are the ones who really listen to the truth of their hearts.

People ask you for criticism, but they only want praise.

People ask you for criticism, but they only want praise.

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