#men

Men marched away, Vimes. And men marched back. How glorious the battles would have been that they never had to fight! ↗

— Terry Pratchett

#jingo #vetinari #vimes #war #men

Men who give up the common goal of all things that exist, thereby cease to exist themselves. Some may perhaps think it strange that we say that wicked men, who form the majority of men, do not exist; but that is how it is. I am not trying to deny the wickedness of the wicked; what I do deny is that their existence is absolute and complete existence. Just as you might call a corpse a dead man, but couldn't simply call it a man, so I would agree that the wicked are wicked, but could not agree that they have unqualified existence. ↗

— Boethius

#good #happiness #men

If, after all, men cannot always make history have a meaning, they can always act so that their own lives have one. ↗

— Albert Camus

#meaning #men

L'aube exalteé ainsi qu'un peuple de colombes, et j'ai vu quelquefois ce que l'homme a cru voir! (And dawn, exalted like a host of doves - and then I've seen what men believe they've seen!) ↗

— Arthur Rimbaud

#men

If I understand this correctly Christ taught here the alarming doctrine that the desire for honor among men made belief impossible. ↗

— A.W. Tozer

#honor #pride #men

Bury it with me. Time was I thought it was a blessing and a curse. But it’s only a curse, and I ain’t about to curse some other poor bastard with it. Time was I thought it was reward and punishment both. But this is the only reward for men like us.’ And Whirrun nodded down towards the bloody spear-shaft. ‘This or … just living long enough to become nothing worth talking of. Put it in the mud, Craw.’ And he winced as he heaved the grip into Craw’s limp hand and pressed his dirty fingers around it. ‘I will.’ ‘Least I won’t have to carry it no more. You see how bloody heavy it is?’ ‘Every sword’s a weight to carry. Men don’t see that when they pick ’em up. But they get heavier with time. ↗

— Joe Abercrombie

#men

If everything is definite, then men need no passion. ↗

— Toba Beta

#passionless #men

All around, grown men were getting out of cars and shoving at each other like fifteen-year-olds, the bunch of juiced-up, armchair quarterbacks ready to peanut-gallery it up: The closest they were going to get to the octagon was standing on the outside of the chicken wire looking in. ↗

— J.R. Ward

#men

Evening by evening Among the Brookside rushes, Laura bow'd her head to hear, Lizzie veil'd her blushes: Crouching close together In the cooling weather, With clasping arms and cautioning lips, With tingling cheeks and fingertips. "lie close," Laura said, Pricking up her golden head: "We must not look at Goblin men, We must not buy their fruits: who knows upon the soil they fed Their hungry thirsty roots?" "Come buy," call the Goblins Hobbling down the glen ↗

— Christina Rossetti

#goblin-market #poems #men

Women's liberty", "women's independence" are words on everybody's lips these days, but they stay on the lips and don't go any further. Do you know why? I've found out that liberty can be obtained neither by theoretical arguments, nor by pleading justice and morality, nor by staging a concerted quarrel with men at a meeting. It's something that no one can give to another - not something to be owed or paid as a due. ..you can easily understand that it comes of its own accord - through one's own fulfillment, by the enlargement of one's own soul. ↗

— Sharat Chandra Chattopadhyay

#women-s-liberation #men