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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #woman
I WANT her though, to take the same from me. She touches me as if I were herself, her own. She has not realized yet, that fearful thing, that I am the other, she thinks we are all of one piece. It is painfully untrue. I want her to touch me at last, ah, on the root and quick of my darkness and perish on me, as I have perished on her. Then, we shall be two and distinct, we shall have each our separate being. And that will be pure existence, real liberty. Till then, we are confused, a mixture, unresolved, unextricated one from the other. It is in pure, unutterable resolvedness, distinction of being, that one is free, not in mixing, merging, not in similarity. When she has put her hand on my secret, darkest sources, the darkest outgoings, when it has struck home to her, like a death, "this is _him!_" she has no part in it, no part whatever, it is the terrible _other_, when she knows the fearful _other flesh_, ah, dark- ness unfathomable and fearful, contiguous and concrete, when she is slain against me, and lies in a heap like one outside the house, when she passes away as I have passed away being pressed up against the _other_, then I shall be glad, I shall not be confused with her, I shall be cleared, distinct, single as if burnished in silver, having no adherence, no adhesion anywhere, one clear, burnished, isolated being, unique, and she also, pure, isolated, complete, two of us, unutterably distinguished, and in unutterable conjunction. Then we shall be free, freer than angels, ah, perfect. VIII AFTER that, there will only remain that all men detach themselves and become unique, that we are all detached, moving in freedom more than the angels, conditioned only by our own pure single being, having no laws but the laws of our own being. Every human being will then be like a flower, untrammelled. Every movement will be direct. Only to be will be such delight, we cover our faces when we think of it lest our faces betray us to some untimely fiend. Every man himself, and therefore, a surpassing singleness of mankind. The blazing tiger will spring upon the deer, un-dimmed, the hen will nestle over her chickens, we shall love, we shall hate, but it will be like music, sheer utterance, issuing straight out of the unknown, the lightning and the rainbow appearing in us unbidden, unchecked, like ambassadors. We shall not look before and after. We shall _be_, _now_. We shall know in full. We, the mystic NOW. (From the poem the Manifesto) ↗
She hated him, this man, and these men: the ones who picked her up without expression and used her without emotion. The ones who picked her up with no more regard than they had for picking lint off the collars of their well-pressed suits. She preferred the sweaty nervousness of young virgins or the eager speediness of excited old vets with their knobby fingers and waxy breath to these cold, hard men. These were the ones who called her squaw. Who called her half-breed, the ones who would just as soon slap her than bother to put on the condom she always handed them. She often wondered why they didn’t just keep the $80 it cost to be with her and drive their comfortable, bucket-seated SUVs home to the suburbs. They could kiss their wives hello and then slip into very hot showers to jerk off for free. Their peckish wives could spend the money they saved spending an afternoon getting the silk wraps and pedicures that would goad them into putting out anyways. To these men she had no name and no face. She was a hole. Consequently, she held no regard for these bastards. She gave them the calculated respect accorded to dangerous dogs. ↗
#canadian-literature #cherie #dimaline #first-nations #theytus
I had never seen Rebecca with a guy before, so I never knew what kind of guy she went for. I spent all that time in my car telling myself I am not a nobody, that I am somebody, and then seeing that guy I knew I had been deceiving myself. He looked like a Disney cartoon prince, and I looked more like Old Yeller. What a shot to my ego. Just as I was feeling sorry for myself, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around expecting to see Rebecca. Imagine my surprise when it wasn’t her! But it was a woman, so that’s a start. And it appeared she wanted to talk, and not just ask me to kindly get the hell out of her way. “I saw you from across the room,” she said. “Oh really?” I replied. “That’s disappointing.” “Why’s that?” “Because that means the invisible cloak I bought specifically for tonight is a sham. I was suspicious walking out of the store with an empty hanger, but the salesman assured me it was the best invisibility money could buy.” “I always thought being poor and having no money afforded you the most invisibility,” she said as she started laughing. “Well then I guess it goes to show that you don’t need to spend money you don’t have just to stand out by blending in. Or something like that.” “Something like that,” she said. “Anyway, my name is Dora J. Arod, and I saw you over there and I got excited, because you look like that one actor—you know who I’m talking about, because you must get it all the time.” Yes! So somebody does think I’m handsome and in possession of movie star looks. “Which actor are you referring to?” “Not sure his name, but he was in Armageddon, Big Fish, and Con Air.” “Oh!” I said, “Ben Affleck?” “Ben wasn’t in Big Fish or Con Air.” “Damn,” I said. “Hmm well I’m not sure who you’re referring to then.” “It just hit me,” she said. “Steve Buscemi. You look like Steve Buscemi!” I don’t remember what I said to that, but after giving it much thought, I will say that she is crazy. I do not look like Steve Buscemi. Steve Buscemi is a much more handsome man than me. ↗
#big-fish #con-air #confidence #crazy #disney
Margarita was never short of money. She could buy whatever she liked. Her husband had plenty of interesting friends. Margarita never had to cook. Margarita knew nothing of the horrors of living in a shared flat. In short... was she happy? Not for a moment. ↗
