Evolution Of A Girl Quotes

Boys are stupid and girls are trouble.” Truer words were never spoken.

First of all, love is a joint experience between two persons — but the fact that it is a joint experience does not mean that it is a similar experience to the two people involved. There are the lover and the beloved, but these two come from different countries. Often the beloved is only a stimulus for all the stored-up love which had lain quiet within the lover for a long time hitherto. And somehow every lover knows this. He feels in his soul that his love is a solitary thing. He comes to know a new, strange loneliness and it is this knowledge which makes him suffer. So there is only one thing for the lover to do. He must house his love within himself as best he can; he must create for himself a whole new inward world — a world intense and strange, complete in himself. Let it be added here that this lover about whom we speak need not necessarily be a young man saving for a wedding ring — this lover can be man, woman, child, or indeed any human creature on this earth. Now, the beloved can also be of any description. The most outlandish people can be the stimulus for love. A man may be a doddering great-grandfather and still love only a strange girl he saw in the streets of Cheehaw one afternoon two decades past. The preacher may love a fallen woman. The beloved may be treacherous, greasy-headed, and given to evil habits. Yes, and the lover may see this as clearly as anyone else — but that does not affect the evolution of his love one whit. A most mediocre person can be the object of a love which is wild, extravagant, and beautiful as the poison lilies of the swamp. A good man may be the stimulus for a love both violent and debased, or a jabbering madman may bring about in the soul of someone a tender and simple idyll. Therefore, the value and quality of any love is determined solely by the lover himself. It is for this reason that most of us would rather love than be loved. Almost everyone wants to be the lover. And the curt truth is that, in a deep secret way, the state of being beloved is intolerable to many. The beloved fears and hates the lover, and with the best of reasons. For the lover is forever trying to strip bare his beloved. The lover craves any possible relation with the beloved, even if this experience can cause him only pain.

What in the name of Llar was that all about?’ Colin asked, his face still drained of colour. ‘I have no bloody idea,’ William said his voice quivering.

The morgue was the name the human workers gave to this room in the facility. They were careful not to utter it in front of the androids, for fear of offending them.

I see you made it Jack,’ he started to say, noticing a silver sphere roll across the loading bay floor. It stopped just short of his shoes before it exploded.

Two seconds later, the sound of an alarm filled my ears. ''What did you do?'' I said over the noise as he backed up towards the bathroom door. ''The girl who gave you the note?'' ''Yes...'' ''I caught her staring at my lighter.'' I blinked. ''You gave a child, in a psych ward , a lighter?'' His eyes crinkled at the corners. ''She seemed trustworthy.'' ''You're sick,'' I said, but smiled. ''Hey, nobody's perfect. '' Noah smiled back.

The pretty ones are usually unhappy. They expect everyone to be enamored of their beauty. How can a person be content when their happiness lies in someone else's hands, ready to be crushed at any moment? Ordinary-looking people are far superior, because they are forced to actually work hard to achieve their goals, instead of expecting people to fall all over themselves to help them.

The concept and subsequent development of these JEN2 successors to the old machines, was a story in its own right. It was also one marred with frustration, hidden agendas and ultimately punctuated with a sad human tragedy.

She stood panting as adrenalin fired up her muscles. Flipping open the safety catches on both of her laser pistols, she set them for maximum delivery. Anything or anyone on the receiving end of these weapons would never survive, even as atoms.

I mean to say, I know perfectly well that I've got, roughly speaking, half the amount of brain a normal bloke ought to possess. And when a girl comes along who has about twice the regular allowance, she too often makes a bee line for me with the love light in her eyes. I don't know how to account for it, but it is so." "It may be Nature's provision for maintaining the balance of the species, sir.

When I was just a cute little caterpillar, you loved me. So I became a butterfly so you would never leave.

I rested my head on my arms and sighed dramatically.  "What's up?" she asked "Why are boys so annoying?" she chuckled. "You know what my mother used to say?" I shook my head still in position  "Boys are stupid and girls are trouble" truer words were never spoken.

When you are with the people you like, you tend to be happier.

I wish I was Bill Murray. I hope everything I’ve read about evolution is wrong, and I eventually evolve into him. It’s one of only three plans I have.

See how a body will change, to give you the best chance it can.

Boys are stupid and girls are trouble.

I could see his lips forming the word, Hey, baby. Want to party? Yeesh. After a hundred thousand years of verbal evolution, could a guy not produce a better pick up line than that?

We walk for about an hour before Raffe whispers, “Does moping actually help humans feel better?” “I’m not moping,” I whisper back. “Of course you’re not. A girl like you, spending time with a warrior demigod like me. What’s to mope about? Leaving a wheelchair behind couldn’t possibly show up on the radar compared to that.” I nearly stumble over a fallen branch. “You have got to be kidding me.” “I never kid about my warrior demigod status.” “Oh. My. God.” I lower my voice, having forgotten to whisper. “You are nothing but a bird with an attitude. Okay, so you have a few muscles, I’ll grant you that. But you know, a bird is nothing but a barely evolved lizard. That’s what you are.” He chuckles. “Evolution.” He leans over as if telling me a secret. “I’ll have you know that I’ve been this perfect since the beginning of time.” He is so close that his breath caresses my ear. “Oh, please. Your giant head is getting too big for this forest. Pretty soon, you’re going to get stuck trying to walk between two trees. And then, I’ll have to rescue you.” I give him a weary look. “Again.” I pick up my pace, trying to discourage the smart comeback that I’m sure will come. But it doesn’t. Could he be letting me have the last say? When I look back, Raffe has a smug grin on his face. That’s when I realize I’ve been manipulated into feeling better. I stubbornly try to resist but it’s already too late.

(About changing faith) At our best, Christians embrace it, leaving enough space within orthodoxy for God to surprise us every now and then.

We find these joys to be self evident: That all children are created whole, endowed with innate intelligence, with dignity and wonder, worthy of respect. The embodiment of life, liberty and happiness, children are original blessings, here to learn their own song. Every girl and boy is entitled to love, to dream and belong to a loving “village.” And to pursue a life of purpose. We affirm our duty to nourish and nurture the young, to honour their caring ideals as the heart of being human. To recognize the early years as the foundation of life, and to cherish the contribution of young children to human evolution. We commit ourselves to peaceful ways and vow to keep from harm or neglect these, our most vulnerable citizens. As guardians of their prosperity we honour the bountiful Earth whose diversity sustains us. Thus we pledge our love for generations to come.

Every girl and every woman, has the potential to make this world a better place, and that potential lies in the act of thinking higher thoughts and feeling deeper things. When women and girls, everywhere, begin to see themselves as more than inanimate objects; but as beautiful beings capable of deep feelings and high thoughts, this has the capacity to create change all around. The kind of change that is for the better. Remember: High in the head and deep in the heart. Antlers on your mind and anchors in your heart.

Maybe love was a myth anyhow, a brew of hormones and fantasy, evolution's way of getting men and women together long enough for them to procreate,back in the day when girls got pregnant at twelve, were pregnant or nursing for the next twenty years, and were dead of the plague by forty.

I had never classified myself with other girls. I was not of their species; I was different. I had never thought my future would be like theirs.

Each Goddess story tells a very real lesson: that women are magic. That women have the power to remove the illusion that we are all separate from each other.

what if they make me stay? To keep me safe?”“I wouldn’t, if I were them.” “What do you mean?”“Any minute now . . .”Two seconds later, the sound of an alarm filled my ears. “What did you do?” I said over the noise as he backed up toward the bathroom door. “The girl who gave you the note?” “Yes . . .” “I caught her staring at my lighter.” I blinked. “You gave a child, in a psych ward, a lighter.

The key to your power is simple: love. Love is strength. Your compassion is commanding. Your ability to heal is hailing. Let this be your Goddess ethos.

There are four key pillars holding you up that you can re-ground yourself to. Your responsibility. Your power. Your Compassion. And your sense of unity. This, is your foundation.

Be bold, bright, and beautiful without being a bitch about it.

I'm the creepy girl. In a mental hospital." He grinned. "Nobody's perfect.

What could I say? (...) That I wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all? (...) Encouraging me the way he had, knowing that there was no new century for me, no new life for this girl.

Lula," I said, "do you ever think about getting married?" I guess I do. Doesn't everybody?" You have to let your husband kiss you once you're married. And you have to kiss him back." No," she said. Yes." I nodded, as if I knew everything there was to know about husbands and wives kissing. "That's what they do together." Do you have to?" Oh, absolutely. It's the law." I never heard of that law," she said dubiously. It's true, it's Texas law," I said.

... People who are the spices of this world are the natural souls with instincts and impulses that have not been pruned by evolution and civilization.

Powerful women don’t need another pair of yoga pants, we need a mic.

The moon energy is ancient, and with it comes our elders’ insights. The silver lining to every lesson, a clarity of consciousness that can be the gift to even the darkest of passages.

An evolved Goddess is someone who has a conscious comprehension and awareness to life, a beauty in their mindful nature, and is a role model who seeks to drive forward conscious change.

It seems that a whole lot of people, both Christians and non-Christians, are under the impression that you can’t be a Christian and vote for a Democrat, you can’t be a Christian and believe in evolution, you can’t be a Christian and be gay, you can’t be a Christian and have questions about the Bible, you can’t be a Christian and be tolerant of other religions, you can’t be a Christian and be a feminist, you can’t be a Christian and drink or smoke, you can’t be a Christian and read the New York Times, you can’t be a Christian and support gay rights, you can’t be a Christian and get depressed, you can’t be a Christian and doubt. In fact, I am convinced that what drives most people away from Christianity is not the cost of discipleship but rather the cost of false fundamentals. False fundamentals make it impossible for faith to adapt to change. The longer the list of requirements and contingencies and prerequisites, the more vulnerable faith becomes to shifting environments and the more likely it is to fade slowly into extinction. When the gospel gets all entangled with extras, dangerous ultimatums threaten to take it down with them. The yoke gets too heavy and we stumble beneath it.

The differences between the sexes are found in babies, and across cultures, too -so this is not some weird WEIRD phenomenom. Given a choice, neonate girls spend more time looking at faces, while neonate boys spend more time looking at things.

What is more of a symbol of eternal growth and change than the Goddess? The eternal spiral of creation. Coiled like a serpent, our Shakti energy sits, waiting to be awakened within all of us.

This boy - his name was Eric - said he thought it disgusting the way all the girls at my college stood around on the porches under the porch lights and in the bushes in plain view, necking madly before the one o'clock curfew, so everybody passing by could see them. A million years of evolution, Eric said bitterly, and what are we? Animals.

That night, when SanJuanna had cleared the main course and brought dessert in, my mother called for quiet and said, "Boys, I have an announcement to make. Your sister made the apple pies tonight. I'm sure we will all enjoy them very much." "Can I learn how, ma'am?" said Jim Bowie. "No, J.B. Boys don't bake pies," Mother said. "Why not?" he said. "They have wives who make pies for them." "But I don't have a wife." "Darling, I'm sure you will have a very nice one someday when you're older, and she'll make you many pies. Calpurnia, would you care to serve?" Was there any way I could have a wife, too? I wondered as I cut through the browned C and promptly shattered the entire crust.

All three girls are in their twenties now, and for all their evolution and ostensible liberation, they have no interest in a story that is not about a handsome, famous man. Still, I am their mother, and they understand that they will have to endure me in order to get to him. I take back my place on the sofa and begin again,

Know this, you can start over, every morning. Know that every day you have an opportunity to respond. Be educated, rather than angered. Be wise in your walk, rather than wounded, or wicked. Your intellect is the sharpest tool in your Goddess kit. Use it. Wisely. Know your value. Know your worth. Know your contribution. Know this.

I am no feminist. Even though the term "feminism" is founded upon the basic principle of gender equality, it possesses its own fundamental gender bias, which makes it inclined towards the wellbeing of women, over the wellbeing of the whole society. And if history has shown anything, it is that such fundamental biases in time corrupt even the most glorious ideas and give birth to prejudice, bigotry and differentiation.

I had met a girl by chance that I might just as well not have met. A girl with red hair supposedly inherited from her grandfather, a plump girl with fair skin, broad lips, one eye light green and the other blue-violet, a girl who sometimes went wall-eyed and weighed around fifty-eight kilograms. Fifty-eight kilograms of water and lime, phosphorus, iron, as well as traces of other chemicals. Fifty-eight kilograms of water and a few pinches of the elements from her fellow countryman Mendeleev's table. Ten buckets of water brought to life by the great force of evolution or by our provincial God.

The saying ‘the future is female’ is wrong. The truth is, ‘the future is feminine.’ There is a difference.

The Decision ...I wiped my hands on my pinafore now sullied and stained not crisp or pressed as it had been before...

Fact is, empower a woman, and you empower the world.

Understanding that true spiritual evolution comes from walking forward while turning inwards.

Neither a light nor a dark lesson is more justified than the other, neither is more powerful, both equal in their opportunity to gift you new insight, new levels of compassion, and a new meaning to love.

You will experience the triple Goddess—Maiden, Mother, and Crone. These phases are symbolic to, not just your own life, but life as a whole. Birth, life, and death. As women, it is important to understand you are the cycle.

Accordingly, he had the two leaders beheaded, and straightway installed the pair next in order as leaders in their place. When this had been done, the drum was sounded for the drill once more; and the girls went through all the evolutions, turning to the right or to the left, marching ahead or wheeling back, kneeling or standing, with perfect accuracy and precision, not venturing to utter a sound. Then Sun Tzu sent a messenger to the King saying: “Your soldiers, Sire, are now properly drilled and disciplined, and ready for your majesty's inspection. They can be put to any use that their sovereign may desire; bid them go through fire and water, and they will not disobey.

She’s the latest freshest fruit of our great American evolution. She’s the self-made girl! (…) Well, to begin with, the self-made girl’s a new feature. That, however, you know. In the second place she isn’t self-made at all. We all help to make her, we take such an interest in her.

They don't like me at all," Bunny said, " I went through puberty a little earlier than expected, that’s all," A dark-brown eyed girl with a bowl-shaped haircut named Evelyn Vega pressed her index finger to her forehead. “Why don't we express a different kind of love, like the shopaholics we are?" She said.

While Alpha Males are often gifted with superior physical attributes—size, strength, speed, good looks—selected by evolution over the eons by the strongest surviving and, essentially, getting all the girls, the Beta Male gene has survived not by meeting and overcoming adversity, but by anticipating and avoiding it.

Baby, you keep doing that and we are going to need Giana to get her ass in here to take care of baby girl." He palmed my ass. "Giana is already here." She knocked on the counter behind us. "Thank you, Jesus!" Though, Chris pronounced it Hey-Seuss. Bending, he lifted me onto his shoulder and took long strides to the staircase.

What is more transformative than the female form? What is more of a symbol of eternal growth and change than the Goddess? The eternal spiral of cre- ation. Coiled like a serpent, our shakti energy sits, waiting to be awakened within all of us. What our bodies and beings were built for. What we were created to do. Change. Create. Create the change.

You can't change the world, without changing perspectives. My books, my work - its about doing just that.

Bedtime tales, myths, legends, fairy tales, lie the lessons and examples of what a Goddess would do.

The Goddess ethos is: living for love, light, and legacy.

I would say that when what started as an outsider’s argument becomes the conventional wisdom of a Girl Scout troop, it is a sign of an evolution in conciousness.

do not teach me my sexuality is the greatest power i have and then shame me when i use it

Know your worth, dream big, and never give up! The world needs you.

I believe in God and evolution. / I believe in the Bible and the Qur’an. / I believe in Christmas and he New World. / I believe that there is good in each of us / no matter who we are or what we believe in. / I believe in the words of my grandfather. / I believe in the city and the South the past and the present. / I believe in Black people and White people coming together. / I believe in nonviolence and “Power to the People.” / I believe in my little brother’s pale skin and my own dark brown. / I believe in my sister’s brilliance and the too-easy books I love to read. / I believe in my mother on a bus and Black people refusing to ride. / I believe in good friends and good food. I believe in johnny pumps and jump ropes, / Malcolm and Martin, Buckeyes and Birmingham, / Writing and listening, bad words and good words – / I believe in Brooklyn! I believe in one day and someday and this perfect moment called Now.

Even in nonindustrialized societies, girls do not start having children the moment they reach menarche; the average age worldwide for a first baby is nineteen, according to a 2008 article in Science.

My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humour, and some style. If you don’t like something, change it. Try to be a rainbow in someone’s cloud.

While Alpha Males are often gifted with superior physical attributes—size, strength, speed, good looks—selected by evolution over the eons by the strongest surviving and, essentially, getting all the girls, the Beta Male gene has survived not by meeting and overcoming adversity, but by anticipating and avoiding it. That is, when the Alpha Males were out charging after mastodons, the Beta Males could imagine in advance that attacking what was essentially an angry, woolly bulldozer with a pointy stick might be a losing proposition, so they hung back at camp to console the grieving widows. When Alpha Males set out to conquer neighboring tribes, to count coups and take heads, Beta Males could see in advance that in the event of a victory, the influx of female slaves was going to leave a surplus of mateless women cast out for younger trophy models, with nothing to do but salt down the heads and file the uncounted coups, and some would find solace in the arms of any Beta Male smart enough to survive. In the case of defeat, well, there was that widows thing again. The Beta Male is seldom the strongest or the fastest, but because he can anticipate danger, he far outnumbers his Alpha Male competition. The world is led by Alpha Males, but the machinery of the world turns on the bearings of the Beta Male.

It seems likely that male choice shaped breasts not to distinguish girls from women, but to distinguish young women from older women. Here, the informative thing about breasts is the way they droop with the effects of age and gravity.

The universe, the landscape, it is all changing. It has not changed enough-that is a given- but it is changing, and evolution is something to embrace. Racism is alive and well and we still encounter microaggressions on a regular basis, bat at least now we can go home and close the door and enjoy some entertainment, see ourselves on-screen, imagine ourselves as superheroes and goddesses. Before, you got hassled, you went home, and you had nothing. That's the difference

Girls in virtual networks are subjected to hundreds of times more social comparison than girls had experienced for all of human evolution. They are exposed to more cruelty and bullying because social media platforms incentivize and facilitate relational aggression. Their openness and willingness to share emotions with other girls espouses them to depression and other disorders. The twisted incentive structures of social media reward the most extreme presentations of symptoms.

Evolution means letting go of our false fundamentals so that God can get into those shadowy places we’re not sure we want him to be. It means being okay with being wrong, okay with not having all the answers, okay with never being finished.

I should have learned how to tell another girl she’d hurt my feelings or understand I’d hurt hers. I should have been able to figure out how to say that I didn’t know how to turn down a boy’s attention, or that I’d rather not come along, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still your friend.

A nice girl doesn’t get turned on by a spanking,” he scolded, his fingers dipping into the pool of desire beneath my burning bottom. He dragged one knuckle down over my clit and I jerked in my bonds at the roar of pleasure it released. With one hand still on my center, he spanked me again, pushing

There are no winners and losers. We seek a win-win. Seeing opportunity in cri- sis. Believe in yourself, and those around. Celebrate each other’s strengths; we do not celebrate when someone fails. It is a shift. With our insights and consciousness comes our vowed responsibility, our vowed compassion, and our vowed unity— with that comes power. The choice to do right. The choice to include. The choice to forgive. The choice to love anyway. This is your power. No matter what has been taken from you, what society has or hasn’t allowed you, what labels or beliefs limit you, your choice, your response, your action is your power.

The brutal campaign of mass sterilisation, forced abortion and infanticide was exacerbated by the voluntary murder of baby girls on a genocidal scale as parents tried to ensure that their one legal child was a boy. Fertility fell, but not much faster than it would have done if a policy of economic development, public health and education had been adopted instead. What

Girls,” she whispered under her breath, wondering why it was that adolescent girls simply had to be mean to their mothers. Clearly it was normal behavior; she’d spent enough time with her friends and peers to know that. So normal it was probably part of evolution. Maybe the species needed girls who thought they were grown up at thirteen for some bizarre, hidden reason.

For Villanelle, language is fluid. Most of the time she thinks in French, but every so often she awakes and knows that she’s been dreaming in Russian. At times, close to sleep, the blood roars in her ears, an unstoppable tide shot through with polyglot screams. On such occasions, alone in the Paris apartment, she anaesthetises herself with hours of web-surfing, usually in English. And now, she notes, she is mentally playing out scenarios in Sicilian-inflected Italian. She hasn’t sought out the language, but her head echoes with it. Is there any part of her that is still Oxana Vorontsova? Does she still exist, that little girl who lay night after night in urine-sodden sheets at the orphanage, planning her revenge? Or was there only ever Villanelle, evolution’s chosen instrument?

I can assure you—we have a lot of experience in being amateur!” I say when she mentions the “amateur experience.” She doesn’t laugh. No one ever laughs when I make these kinds of jokes. When Bill Murray says shit like this, people completely lose it. I wish I was Bill Murray. I hope everything I’ve read about evolution is wrong, and I eventually evolve into him. It’s one of only three plans I have.

And that’s the message. That’s it. That’s all. Nothing more than what happens when things come together, when hydrogen, say, meets oxygen, or a story from then meets a story from now, or stone meets water meets girl meets boy meets bird meets hand meets wing meets bone meets light meets dark meets eye meets word meets world meets grain of sand meets thirst meets hunger meets need meets dream meets real meets same meets different meets death meets life meets end meets beginning all over again, the story of nature itself, ever-inventive, making one thing out of another, and one thing into another, and nothing lasts, and nothing’s lost, and nothing ever perishes, and things can always change, because things will always change, and things will always be different, because things can always be different.

Destiny Wallace was just fourteen years old but she looked at least nineteen or twenty - and that was in her school uniform. Annie couldn't help but wonder if evolution was to blame, because most of the girls in this particular group all looked like clones of each other. Well, or of Kim Kardashian or another famous person, famous for no other reason that that were famous for basically doing fuck-all constructive.

All three girls are in their twenties now, and for all their evolution and ostensible liberation, they have no interest in a story that is not about a handsome, famous man. Still, I am their mother, and they understand that they will have to endure me in order to get to him. I take back my place on the sofa and begin again, knowing full well that the parts they’re waiting to hear are the parts I’m never going to tell them.

Those men In Scene 34 who decided not to rape the young girl did not live to produce more children who would inherit their compassion, whereas one of the men who raped her did produce a child to inherit his lack of compassion. It is by this process of weeding the genes that do not enhance reproductive success that evolution has saddled the majority of men with the propensity to behave as rapists in the appropriate situation.

Truth is, there comes a time when turning a new page in your life is the most liberating and empowering feeling you can experience. It is that sweet moment of fruition, when you realize there’s so much more to the book of life. That the power of birthing the life you wish for lays in your hands to turn over, and cast out what doesn’t feed your soul, add to your life, help you grow, or consciously challenge you. Keep turning pages Goddess. You are allowed and encouraged to change.

You are the new religion. You are the new craze. You are the next stage in evolution. You are so palpably my superior, in every way, that I tremble like a child in your presence. You make my head spin. You make my heart burst. You make my soul explode, every fucking minute I am with you. What I am inescapably heading towards is , in this monologue, which might be the last thing I ever say, is: Dutch, I'm in love with you." His face was as open and wondering as a child, looking at snow. "I love you, Jo.

Readers acquainted with the recent literature on human sexuality will be familiar with what we call the standard narrative of human sexual evolution, hereafter shortened to the standard narrative. It goes something like this: 1. Boy Meets girl, 2. Boy and girl assess one and others mate value, from perspectives based upon their differing reproductive agendas/capacities. He looks for signs of youth, fertility, health, absence of previous sexual experience and likelihood of future sexual fidelity. In other words, his assessment is skewed toward finding a fertile, healthy young mate with many childbearing years ahead and no current children to drain his resources. She looks for signs of wealth (or at least prospects of future wealth), social status, physical health and likelihood that he will stick around to protect and provide for their children. Her guy must be willing and able to provide materially for her (especially during pregnancy and breastfeeding) and their children, known as "male parental investment". 3. Boy gets girl. Assuming they meet one and others criteria, they mate, forming a long term pair bond, "the fundamental condition of the human species" as famed author Desmond Morris put it. Once the pair bond is formed, she will be sensitive to indications that he is considering leaving, vigilant towards signs of infidelity involving intimacy with other women that would threaten her access to his resources and protection while keeping an eye out (around ovulation especially) for a quick fling with a man genetically superior to her husband. He will be sensitive to signs of her sexual infidelities which would reduce his all important paternity certainty while taking advantage of short term sexual opportunities with other women as his sperm are easily produced and plentiful. Researchers claim to have confirmed these basic patterns in studies conducted around the world over several decades. Their results seem to support the standard narrative of human sexual evolution, which appears to make a lot of sense, but they don't, and it doesn't.

It’s time to stop hiding. It’s time to know your power, claim your voice, and tip the balance back toward a feminine future. To restore balance. It’s not about man vs. woman. Rulers vs. religion. Command and conquer. This is about harmony. Unity. Removing what has defined and divided us. It’s time to become activated Goddesses. Understand. These shifts are going to make your earth move. So if you know one thing, know this, that if you hold your Goddess energy, your truthful emotion, in your soul, nothing can shake you.

Scientists have found that its presence begins to structure the male as different from the female right from the start, from the very beginning of the fetus’s evolution in the uterus (biologically, the original form is the female). Male and female differences in identity are already largely shaped at birth, and behavioral differences between the sexes are recorded very early, before social conditioning can play an effective role. Crudely put, baby girls are more interested in people, whereas baby boys are more interested in things.

We don’t need an invitation to be real. The truth is: we don’t need permission to own the power of what makes us unique, what makes us female. Your emotions, your tears or temper, your love and passion. Our emotions can be wild, untamed, and raging, as it can be loving, nurturing, and consoling. All are powerful feminine energies—that when harnessed and directed towards conscious action can be an unstoppable force. So this is your official authorization to awaken into your full-bodied, emotionally activated self. Passion and power included.

She was always saying, ‘I know I am dying from radium poisoning,’” remembered one of her physicians. “I convinced her she wasn’t; that she was going to get better. It is tact of a physician not to reveal a fatal prognosis.”17 Martland wasted no time enlightening the world about the evolution of radium’s MO. He had seen enough cases now to know that these latent sarcomas—which could leave a victim healthy for years after her exposure to radium, before coming horribly to life and taking over her body—were the new phase of this terrifying poisoning. He added: “When I first described this disease, there was a strong tendency among some of those interested in the production and therapeutic use of radium to place the entire blame on mesothorium… In the cases autopsied recently, the mesothorium has disappeared while the radium persists.”18 He could reach only one conclusion: “I am now of the opinion that the normal radioactivity of the human body should not be increased; [to do so] is dangerous.”19 It had to be, for each week another dial-painter presented another sarcoma, each in a new location—her spine, her leg, her knee, her hip, her eye… Irene’s family couldn’t believe how fast she was fading from them. But she still had grit in her. On May 4, 1931, as she lay dying in hospital, she filed a claim for damages

So confident are we in ritual's power that we dare brandish it against the might of Nature herself. Nature will have its way with us, but we have always used ritual to rob it of the last word. It is nature that determines when a baby is born. But it has always been ritual that decides when a child's body has taken adult form. But it has always been ritual that decides when the boy is recognized as a man or the girl has become a woman. Nature directs our lusts and desires, but it has always been ritual that decides who our legitimate partner is. And in the end, nature snuffs the life from the body. But it has always been ritual that determines when our beloved is dismissed from our care. Humans are the only species that take offense at Nature's indifference to our plight. Ritual is a defiant gesture expressing that offence. If we abandon ritual do we give up something of our humanity? No. It is much simpler than that. If we abandon ritual, we give up being human.

Paley’s book Boys and Girls is about the year she spent trying to get her pupils to behave in a more unisex way. And it is a chronicle of spectacular and amusing failure. None of Paley’s tricks or bribes or clever manipulations worked. For instance, she tried forcing the boys to play in the doll corner and the girls to play in the block corner. The boys proceeded to turn the doll corner into the cockpit of a starship, and the girls built a house out of blocks and resumed their domestic fantasies. Paley’s experiment culminated in her declaration of surrender to the deep structures of gender. She decided to let the girls be girls. She admits, with real self-reproach, that this wasn’t that hard for her: Paley always approved more of the girls’ relatively calm and prosocial play. It was harder to let the boys be boys, but she did. “Let the boys be robbers,” Paley concluded, “or tough guys in space. It is the natural, universal, and essential play of little boys.” I’ve been arguing that children’s pretend play is relentlessly focused on trouble. And it is. But as Melvin Konner demonstrates in his monumental book The Evolution of Childhood, there are reliable sex differences in how boys and girls play that have been found around the world. Dozens of studies across five decades and a multitude of cultures have found essentially what Paley found in her midwestern classroom: boys and girls spontaneously segregate themselves by sex; boys engage in much more rough-and-tumble play; fantasy play is more frequent in girls, more sophisticated, and more focused on pretend parenting; boys are generally more aggressive and less nurturing than girls, with the differences being present and measurable by the seventeenth month of life. The psychologists Dorothy and Jerome Singer sum up this research: “Most of the time we see clear-cut differences in the way children play. Generally, boys are more vigorous in their activities, choosing games of adventure, daring, and conflict, while girls tend to choose games that foster nurturance and affiliation.

Before you start spouting off information you’ve been brainwashed with about evolution and the food chain, read on. Yes, humans have a high level of intelligence. Yes, we created weapons for hunting and fire for cooking. Yes, we found a way to mass-produce animals for consumption. However, if you study animals in the wild, you will note that they do not rely on anything other than their natural hunting ability, speed, strength, claws, teeth, and jaws. They have no tools or weapons. Now look at yourself. Look at your flimsy fingernails in comparison to an eagle’s talons. Look at your flat, blunt teeth compared to a lion’s fangs. Compare your speed and agility to that of a tiger. Compare the strength of your jaw to a wolf’s. Imagine yourself trying to run after an animal, catch it, and kill it using your bare hands, fingernails, teeth, and jaws. Not only would you look ridiculous, but you’d probably get your ass kicked, too. And even if you were successful, envision yourself eating the kill without the aid of an oven and silverware.

That? It's nothing. A stupid mutation. A standard outcome. We used to see them in our labs. Junk." "Then why haven't we ever seen it before?" Gibbons makes a face of impatience. "You don't culture death the way we do. You don't tinker with the building blocks of nature." Interest and passion flicker briefly in the old man's eyes. Mischief and predatory interests. "You have no idea what things we succeeded in creating in our labs. This stuff is hardly worth my time. I hoped you were bringing me a challenge. Something from Drs. Ping and Raymond. Or perhaps Mahmoud Sonthalia. Those are challenges." For a moment, his eyes lose their cynicism. He becomes entranced. "Ah. Now those are worthy opponents." We are in the hands of a gamesman. In a flash of insight, Kanya understands the doctor entirely. A fierce intellect. A man who reached the pinnacle of his field. A jealous and competitive man. A man who found his competition too lacking, and so switched sides and joined the Thai Kingdom for the stimulation it might provide. An intellectual exercise for him. As if Jaidee had decided to fight a muay thai match with his hands tied behind his back to see if he could win with kicks alone. We rest in the hands of a fickle god. He plays on our behalf only for entertainment, and he will close his eyes and sleep if we fail to engage his intellect. A horrifying thought. The man exists only for competition, the chess match of evolution, fought on a global scale. An exercise in ego, a single giant fending off the attacks of dozens of others, a giant swatting them from the sky and laughing. But all giants must fall, and then what must the Kingdom look forward to?

listen. it wouldn't have hurt so much if she wasn't the girl i always wanted to be. in high school i carved the word ugly into my skin so that even if i once reached that pivotal point of high self esteem i would always be reminded of who i was underneath it all and i wanted so badly to be the athletic girl who put makeup on effortlessly who knew a thing or two about fashion whose laughter sounded like flowers blooming who knew what it meant to be sad, and anxious, but in the beautiful way in the mysterious way in the way that could be cured by true love's kiss whose skin was always soft and hair always brushed - sometimes styled - long, and long, and dark, and wavy a fine contrast against her light eyes and pale skin that never led anyone to question just where she was from whose body hair was fine, or at least taken care of so frequently and expertly, that no one ever questioned just where she fell in human evolution whose body curved in all the right places whose skin was taut with muscle and soft with and inviting where it should be who ate right who never smoked and never tried to end her life; once, twice, seventeen times who liked art but didn't really understand it who studied hard even though she hated it who cared about injustice but not to the point that too much thought would led her to unending, selfish tears whose eyes could stop an army and whose lips never fell into a thin line whose kisses you remember and whose body you miss when you're lying in a bed without her whose warmth you reach out for not just from habit or desire but need - desperate need who didn't make loving her hard who you missed, even when you were with another the girl who everyone knew was beautiful - they just knew, ok. they just knew her name and they would say: 'yes, her. she's very beautiful.' (...) it wouldn't hurt so much if you weren't everything i was looking for, everything i wanted, and so was she

Now, using her limited artistic skills, she drew a picture of the earth and colored the ocean blue and the land green. “Who can tell me where we come from?” The assignment had come to Amisha after she and Ravi had a discussion with the boys about karma and the universe’s determination of their place. Jay had asked, in his innocence, what crime Ravi had committed in his previous life to be born an untouchable in this one. Amisha started to scold, but Ravi had assured her it was fine, and yet neither had the answer as to why one was born into his station in life. “God?” one student answered. “Evolution. We came from apes,” another answered. “And how do we live our life?” Amisha saw their confusion and tried to explain. “Once we are born, are we still controlled by the person or event that made us? Are we puppets?” The students shook their heads no. “Then how do we make our decisions?” “Our hearts.” Neema’s answer was tentative, sounding more like a question. Amisha nodded her approval, offering encouragement. “Our gut,” a boy in the front added. “What feels right.” “Our soul?” Amisha asked the boy. At his nod, she said, “Excellent—all of you.” Amisha made sure the class was focused before continuing. “The heart and soul work on emotions. They don’t always stop to think about what is right or wrong, only what they want and need. So where do they get their direction?” “From the brain.” The answer came from the back of the room. “Correct. Our minds guide us toward what is acceptable for us to create, protect, or destroy. And where does the brain get its intellect?” Amisha searched the room for an answer. At first the class was quiet, the children glancing at one another to see if anyone had the answer. Finally, a student near the front answered, “From what we learn or have been taught. By knowledge?” “Excellent. But even with our brains, heart, and soul guiding us, can we do anything we want? Do we have the freedom to make our own choices?” When the class murmured no, she asked, “Why not?” “Our parents,” a student threw out, making everyone laugh. “The Raj,” a girl in the front whispered. “Rules,” Neema said. Thrilled that the students were interested, Amisha said, “I want all of you to write about creating something you want, destroying something you don’t need, and protecting what is vital. But you must explain how your heart, your soul, and your mind feel about each event.

But I was starving! You know I always forget my lunch—and who expects me to concentrate on Advanced Manga Drawing Level 2 when visions of pork buns and powdered doughnuts dance in my head? Teacher Suzuki acted like it was the end of the world just because I got hungry,” --Bunny Lilka

It's Survival of Them Who's Best at Nicking Things, girl!

People used to build great libraries to symbolize man’s quest for knowledge, now we have the Internet which is both more powerful and wonderful. The men who used to get their information from the library were considered scholars but the men who get their information from the Internet are considered idiots, or worse, thieves.

Boys are stupid and girls are trouble.” Truer words were never spoken.

Evolution is inevitable. But the process isn’t going from lower to higher. It’s just going from different to different—today’s fittest are likely to be tomorrow’s unfit. It’s environments that decide fitness, and environments change.

The result is that any girl who starts early and has a lifetime of menstrual regularity with few pregnancies (lean, athletic girls and women often do not menstruate regularly) has approximately twice as many periods and so twice as many bouts of hormone cycling as hunter-gatherer girls.