So tell me gentleman, tell me the time and place where it was easy to be a woman.

You painted a naked woman because you enjoyed looking at her, put a mirror in her hand and you called the painting “Vanity,” thus morally condemning the woman whose nakedness you had depicted for you own pleasure.

Women piece together their lives from the scraps left over for them.

This business of womanhood is a heavy burden.

The patrists poison themselves. The matrists tend to decay, which is merely another kind of poison.

I was too old-fashioned male-chauv to allow that; we discussed for a minute and I wound up with the couch