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“Mrs. Clutterthorpe, I can hardly think of any fate worse than becoming the mother of six. Unless perhaps it were plague, and even then I am persuaded a few disfiguring buboes and possible death would be preferable to motherhood.”
“I am quite determined to be mistress of my own fate, Mrs. Clutterthorpe, but I do sympathize with how strange it must sound to you. It is not your fault that you are entirely devoid of imagination. I blame your education.”
“And what are you, child?”
“A woman in search of adventure,”
“You would trust him with your life?”
“No, child. I would trust him with yours.”
I have faith that men can be as reasonable and logical as women if they but try.”
We are, as a gender, undereducated and infantilized to the point of idiocy. But those of us who have been given the benefit of learning and useful occupation, well, we are proof that the traditional notions of feminine delicacy and helplessness are the purest poppycock.”
Paint a bull’s-eye on your chest. I shall be throwing knives at you and I should hate to miss.”
I love them.
“The truth is a hard mirror, and I am in no mood to look upon my reflection.”
in my experience, it is far better to tell a man what he wants to hear and then do as you please than attempt to reason with him.
“My dear Veronica,
“There are times when it is entirely safe to show one’s vulnerability, to roll over and reveal the soft underbelly beneath. But there are other times when pain must be borne without a murmur, when the pain is so consuming that if you give in to it, even in the slightest, you have lost everything.”
There are no masculine virtues, Veronica. And none sacred to women either. We are all of us just people, and most badly flawed ones at that.”
“I can only quote Xenocrates, dear lady. ‘I have often regretted my speech, never my silence.’
