Fisher Women Quotes

Women hold all the power. They should use it like a whip, not offer it up like a sacrifice.

Isaac is touch, and he is sound. He is smell and he is sight. I tried to make him a single sense like I did with everyone else, but he is all of them. He overpowers my senses and that is exactly why I ran from him. I was afraid of feeling brightly—afraid I would become used to the color and sounds and smells, and they would be taken from me. I was a self-fulfilling prophecy; destroying before I could be destroyed. I wrote about women like that, I didn’t realize I was one.

The crew was mostly men. That's how it was and that's pretty much how it still is. It's a man's world & show business is a man's meal with women generously sprinkled through it like over-qualified spice.

I’ve been with many women, and she is the only one who makes me want to be a better person … and a better person for her. I don’t even need to be good, I just need to be good for her.

Women are stuck in a cycle of insecurity perpetuated by the way men treat them, and we are constantly fighting to prove to ourselves and everyone else that we are okay.

Why do you always try to downplay my feelings for you?” “I don’t trust them,” she says after a minute. “You claim that you love me, but you’ve loved other women in between.

A word of advice,” he says, as I stop in his office to say goodbye. “When you’re in love with a woman, you shouldn’t get involved with other women.” “Noted,” I say. “Though, I would like to offer that she is probably sleeping with another man as we speak.

I didn't like roses. They reminded me of the women in my life: beautiful and bright, but if you touched them they made you bleed.

Youth and beauty are not accomplishments. They're the temporary happy byproducts of time and/or DNA. Don't hold your breath for either.

We are chained hand and foot by protocol, enslaved to a static, empty world where men and women can’t read, where the scientific advances of the ages are the preserve of the rich, where artists and poets are doomed to endless repetitions and sterile reworking of past masterpieces. Nothing is new. New does not exist. Nothing changes, nothing grows, evolves, develops. Time has stopped. Progress is forbidden

Unfortunately, it hurts all three of my feelings.

You know,” I saw, leaning across the table and taking her hand. “I could have sex with a thousand women, and it wouldn’t feel like it did that night in the orange grove.

It’s a man’s world and show business is a man’s meal, with women generously sprinkled through it like overqualified spice.

...one of those unfortunate women who did not find nice men interesting. She found undesirables desirable. She sought out unpleasant boyfriends, then complained about them as though the government had allocated them to her.

There are very few men and women, I suspect, who cooked and marketed their way through the past war without losing forever some of the nonchalant extravagance of the Twenties. They will feel, until their final days on earth, a kind of culinary caution: butter, no matter how unlimited, is a precious substance not lightly to be wasted; meats, too, and eggs, and all the far-brought spices of the world, take on a new significance, having once been so rare. And that is good, for there can be no more shameful carelessness than with the food we eat for life itself When we exist without thought or thanksgiving we are not men, but beasts.

That is male folly; they expect you to always be the same, reliable cow, but women spend their lives changing. Our change can swing for you or against you depending on how fairly we’ve been treated.

I’m a predator. I wait for women to tell me what they want, and then I convince them that I can give it to them.” I laugh. “I already know you’re a man. Tell me something new.

What doesn't kill men makes them stronger. What doesn't kill women makes men breakfast.

I thought back to all the times I’d slept with a girl and not thought twice about it and my gut ached. If a girl doesn’t safeguard herself, who will? I’d always had the mentality that men will change when women change but I never thought about how safeguarding the girls around me was just as much my responsibility as it was theirs.

I was something women and men could agree on. They didn’t like me in the same way, but they liked me with the same intensity, and were all fine with the other sex liking me, too. Isn’t that weird? Think about it. And then stop and ponder something actually important. •

Relentless. There’s something about a relentless man. You couldn’t ignore them. If they asked long enough, eventually they wore you down. Women looked for that, persistent interest. An investor. We were, in ourselves, an entire universe. We felt too much, talked too much, wanted too much—the anti-simple.   “You

The world was his shower and he used women for soap.

It's a man's world and show business is a man's meal, with women generously sprinkled through it like overqualified spice.

each is associated with different neurochemicals. Lust is associated primarily with the hormone testosterone in both men and women. Romantic love is linked with the natural stimulant dopamine and perhaps norepinephrine and serotonin. And feelings of male-female attachment are produced primarily by the hormones oxytocin and vasopressin. Moreover,

They come dressed in the outfits, and not only are the women in the metal bikini but some men are wearing it, too, and it looks fantastic.

Waiting...waiting...that’s what women do. We wait for him to get home, we wait for him to pay attention to us, wait to be treated fairly—for our worth to be seen and acknowledged. Life is just a waiting game for women.

(Popular singer Eddie Fisher, appearing on This is Show Business, told Kaufman that women refused to date him because he looked so young.) Mr. Fisher, on Mount Wilson there is a telescope that can magnify the most distant stars up to twenty-four times the magnification of any previous telescope. This remarkable instrument was unsurpassed in the world of astronomy until the construction of the Mount Palomar telescope, an even more remarkable instrument of magnification. Owing to advances and improvements in optical technology, it is capable of magnifying the stars to four times the magnification and resolution of the Mount Wilson telescope - Mr. Fisher, if you could somehow put the Mount Wilson telescope inside the Mount Palomar telescope, you still wouldn't be able to detect my interest in your problem.

Jabba the Hutt—the fashionista. Jabba the Hutt—the Coco Chanel of intergalactic style. Trendsetter, fashion maven, leader of women’s looks in his world, on his planet and the next.

But now I see the truth: women are stuck in a cycle of insecurity perpetuated by the way men treat them, and we are constantly fighting to prove to ourselves and everyone else that we are okay.

(The crew was mostly men. That’s how it was and that’s pretty much how it still is. It’s a man’s world and show business is a man’s meal, with women generously sprinkled through it like overqualified spice.) The

I was something women and men could agree on. They didn't like me in the same way, but they liked me with the same intensity, and were all fine with the other sex liking me, too. Isn't that weird? Think about it. And then stop and ponder something actually important.

Probably the most startling story I've heard was about a freelance copy editor for a women's magazine who discovered that a writer-a famous "domestic diva"-had plagiarized a recipe. The poor freelancer mysteriously died the very same night she invited the writer to a dinner party at her house ... But I don't mean to worry you. Statistically speaking, I believe that the number of copy editors murdered by their authors is fairly low.

If my years have taught me anything, it's this: there are many roads to God and all men and women have a right to choose their own. And yet...there are those who want to set a tollbooth at every junction, demanding that you pay and pay and pay, that you walk only on the road they have walked, the only one they say is open.

When you date as many women as I have, you learn that everyone has a construct they want to portray. Personalities become like outfits: carefully curated, a smokescreen for the brokenness inside. It’s hard to tell what’s underneath the layers everyone is wearing. Billie is the first woman I’ve met who comes at you naked. She admits when she’s wrong, isn’t afraid of telling you the terrible truth about what she’s done, and doesn’t have a secret agenda. She is what she is and that’s exactly what I fell in love with.

History shapes the lives of all men, women and children ... sometimes unraveling humanity into an undesired mess.

It’s a man’s world and show business is a man’s meal, with women generously sprinkled through it like overqualified spice.)

Lying is what women do to get by—not even for anyone else, just themselves.

Recently, evolutionary psychologist have turned their sights on love and divorce. It didn´t take long to notice that when people fall in love, there´s period of up to three years during which the zeal and infatuation ride at a peak. The internal signals in the body and breain are literally a love drug. And then it beginds to decline. From this perspective, we are preprogramed to lose interest in a sexual partner after the time required to raise a child has passed – which is, on average, about 4 years. In psychologist Helen Fisher´s view, the internally generated love drug love drug is simply an efficient mechanism to get men and women to stick together long enough to increase the survival likehood of their young.

Mark, and the Fisher-King man and this preposterous Indian fakir simply as Men—complacent, patriarchal figures making arrangements for women as if women were children or bartering them like cattle.

Men are jerks. If I were a woman I'd be a lesbian. You get to make love to other women and have little to do with asshole men. Lesbians are better lovers, too, because they know where everything is.

Everyone else got to wear their regular outfits from the first movie. I had to wear my outfit that Jabba picked out for me. Jabba the Hutt—the fashionista. Jabba the Hutt—the Coco Chanel of intergalactic style. Trendsetter, fashion maven, leader of women’s looks in his world, on his planet and the next. In wax, I would forever be outfitted by outlaw Jabba. In wax and out, I would forever be stone-faced.

(The crew was mostly men. That’s how it was and that’s pretty much how it still is. It’s a man’s world and show business is a man’s meal, with women generously sprinkled through it like overqualified spice.)

Men and women are different. One is not inferior or superior, nor is one isn’t lesser or greater. Rather we are complementary. We are serving each other to complete each other. What we lack the other sex fills. Where we excel the other sex lacks.

In the burning times, folk were eager enough to be healed by cunning women, yet sometimes just as eager to cry "witch" when they needed someone to blame for their troubles. We thankfully lived in more enlightened times, but those fears still echoed.

One year ago, just after Carrie Fisher's passing, I dedicated my Sci-fi Thriller The First Ones There to her. When you open the book, this is what it says... “Thank you for inspiring generations of women, young and old, that princesses can hold their own. Rest in Peace.

We’re done, this is over. I’m packing your shit and you’re leaving.” I’m sorry, I love you, please forgive me. “Everything is fucked up, don’t you get that? It’s ruined, all of it is ruined and you need to fucking leave.” I’m so sorry, I love you, please forgive me. “You need to get a life.” I’m sorry, I love you, please forgive me. “All those sad, pathetic letters.” I’m lying, don’t believe me, please don’t believe me. I loved your letters, I kept them all and I cherish every one of them. “I prefer women with a little more experience.” I don’t mean it. I don’t mean any of it. Knowing I’m the only man who has ever been inside of you makes me feel like a fucking king and the luckiest man alive. I’m sorry, I love you, please forgive me. “It doesn’t get better when I come home to you. I hate this life.” I’m lying! Every word is a lie. I love our life and I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Anthropologists have long observed that women are “face-to-face” communicators, while men do so “side-by side.” This means that women are much more comfortable with direct eye contact, which probably has a lot to do with the female history of nursing, cuddling, and generally fawning over their infants all the while staring lovingly into those big baby eyes. Men, on the other hand, find direct eye contact extremely confrontational. As Helen Fisher wrote in her remarkable book, Why We Love, “this response probably stems from men’s ancestry. For many millennia men faced their enemies; they sat or walked side by side as they hunted game with their friends.

Somehow, the messy lives of reality stars make me feel better about my own. There is something dull and vapid about the plastic-looking women on those shows, despite their Fame and Fortune - no matter if they deserve it or not. There is something hopeful about that for the rest of us. We're all fucked up, every single one of us, I think.

The wall between the men’s and women’s rooms was built like a fortress, and solid bars covered the windows—they’d been put there by the proprietors to protect the girls’ honour. Instead they’d served as a death sentence. Isn’t that always the way, Mrs. Fisher had thought, man’s fears causing him to do things that lead to far greater sins.

The novel's trick involved re-telling a classic Faery story —young women abducted into another world— using the conventions of realism. One of these conventions was giving the event a precise date. According to the novel, the three women disappeared on February 14th 1900... But Picnic at Hanging Rock is not set in our 1900, in which February 14th fell on a Wednesday, not a Saturday.

A total of 105 patrol officers died on the job in 2012. Less half of those (51) died as the result of violence, and another 48 died in traffic accidents. Between 1961 and 2012, 3,847 cops were murdered and 2,946 died in accidents—averaging about 75 murders and 58 fatal accidents in a typical year. Naturally it is not to be lost sight of that these numbers represent human lives, not widgets or sacks of potatoes. But let’s also remember that there were 4,383 fatal work injuries in 2012. As dangerous professions go, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, policing is not even in the top ten. In terms of total fatalities, more truck drivers are killed than any other kind of worker (741 in 2012). A better measure of occupational risk, however, is the rate of work-related deaths per 100,000 workers. In 2012, for example, it was 17.4 for truck drivers. At 15.0 deaths per 100,000, policing is slightly less dangerous than being a maintenance worker (15.7) and slightly more dangerous than supervising the gardener (14.7). The highest rate of fatalities is among loggers at 127.8 per 100,000, just ahead of fishers at 117.0. The rate for all occupations, taken together, is 3.2 per 100,000 workers. Where are the headlines, the memorials, the honor guards, and the sorrowful renderings of Taps for these workers? Where are the mayoral speeches, the newspaper editorials, the sober reflections that these brave men and women died, and that others risk their lives daily, so that we might continue to enjoy the benefits of modern society?

Men's ideas, though, continue to run in the old channels about oysters as well as God and war and women. Even when they know better they insist that months with R in them are all right, but that oysters in June or July or May or August will kill you or make you wish they had. This is wrong, of course, except that all oysters, like all men, are somewhat weaker after they have done their best at reproducing.

She browned onions and garlic, and from the pot on the windowsill, chopped a few winter-sad leaves of tarragon. The smell was green and strong, and she thought of spring. Spring in Dijon, when she and Al would hike into the mountains with the Club Alpin, the old women forever chiding her tentative steps, her newborn French: la petite violette, violette américaine. She would turn back to Al, annoyed, and he would laugh. Hardly his delicate flower. When they stopped for lunch, it was Mary Frances with the soufflé of calves' brains, whatever was made liver or marrow, ordering enough strong wine that everyone was laughing. The way home, the women let her be. If she wanted calves' brains now, she wouldn't even know where to begin to look or how to pay. She and Al seemed to be living on vegetables and books, tobacco, quiet. She blanched a bunch of spinach and chopped it. She beat eggs with the tarragon, heated the skillet once again. There was a salad of avocados and oranges. There was a cold bottle of ale and bread. Enough, for tonight.

UKIP SHIPPING FORECAST by Nicholas Pegg After a UKIP councillor claimed widespread flooding in the UK was God’s punishment for allowing same-sex marriage, author/performer Nicholas Pegg wrote his own version of the Shipping Forecast. His recording went viral, receiving 250,000 hits in four days. ‘And now the shipping forecast issued by UKIP on Sunday the 19 January 2014 at 1200 UTC. There are warnings of gays in Viking, Forties, Cromarty, Southeast Iceland and Bongo Bongo land. The general synopsis at midday: Low intelligence expected, becoming Little England by midnight tonight. And now the area forecasts for the next 24 hours. Viking, North Utsire, South Utsire: south easterly gay seven to severe gay nine, occasionally bisexual. Showers – gay. Forties, Cromarty, Forth, Tyne, Dogger, Fisher: women veering southerly 4 or 5, losing their identity and becoming sluts. Rain – moderate or gay. German blight, immigration veering north – figures variable, becoming psychotic. Showers – gay. Humber, Thames, Dover, Wight, Portland, Plymouth: benefit tourism 98%, becoming variable – later slight, or imaginary. Showers – gay. Biscay, Trafalgar: warm, lingering nationalism. Kiss me Hardy, later becoming heterosexual – good. FitzRoy, Sole, Lundy, Fastnet, Irish Sea, Shannon, Rockall, Malin, Hebrides, Bailey: right or extreme right, veering racist 4 or 5, increasing to 5 to 7. Homophobic outburst – back-peddling westerly and becoming untenable. Showers – gay. Fair Isle, Faeroes, South East Iceland: powerbase decreasing, variable – becoming unelectable. Good. And that concludes the forecast.

I know who I am. I built myself. I decided who I wanted to be and then I worked hard to be her. I know my weaknesses and my strengths. I accept my flaws, and I do not hold myself in comparison to other women. Ever. I make promises to myself and I keep them. I need you to think about that for a moment. You would not trust someone who lies to you constantly. You'd lose all confidence in them. It's important to keep promises you make to yourself. Do what you tell yourself you're going to do.

And when disloyal, seed-sowing scum buckets slept with other girls, why did women look inward to find fault in themselves?

Right after high school, Fisher had already decided what he would do with his life. He would aim for the ultimate heights, as befitting someone of his superiority. He would become a career politician, the profession that attracted a higher percentage of fellow psychopaths than any other. And while there were a number of pathetic men and women who had chosen politics in a sincere effort to help others, on the whole, politicians were narcissistic backstabbers. Professional liars. Totally selfish and without conscience, most couldn’t care any less about others, although they could con anyone into believing they were the most compassionate people on Earth. There

I hate these wife-beating bastards. Got to be something wrong with someone who has to hit women.

And then the man in the snakeskin boots led them into the Flatlands Women’s Correctional Facility, the place where her mother would be murdered.

For researchers who seek to get around society’s prejudices, the biggest obstacle is the social sciences’ reliance on questionnaires. Especially regarding a sensitive topic such as sex, self-reports are hard to take seriously. No one wants to come across as a pervert or a jerk, so certain kinds of behavior are automatically underreported. Other kinds are overreported. Sometimes the data are plainly implausible. Thus, it is well known that men have more sex partners than women. And not just a few more, but more by a wide margin. One American study, for example, put the average number of lifetime partners of men at 12.3 and that of women at 3.3. Other countries report similar numbers. How is this even possible? Within a closed population that has a 1:1 sex ratio, there is no way. Where do men find all those partners? Many scientists have broken their heads trying to solve this riddle, but the most innovative approach tackled the likely source of the problem: lack of candor.20 At a midwestern university, Michele Alexander and Terri Fisher connected students to the tubes of a bogus lie-detector apparatus and asked them about their sex lives. Under the illusion that the truth would come out, the students gave very different answers than they had given before. All of a sudden, the women remembered more masturbation and more sex partners. On the first measure, they still scored below the men, but not on the second. Now we understand why the number of reported sex partners differs between the sexes. Men don’t mind talking about them, whereas women keep the information to themselves.

There was nothing more painful to Rainy than the way women greeted each other: the high-pitched squeals of joy, the touching and hugging, the exaggerated expressions that accompanied the small talk.

June Brought, a leadership collaborator of mine, works in corporate wellness for the successful women’s clothing company Eileen Fisher. The company has flourished since its founding in 1984, currently earning revenue of more than $300 million a year. What truly sets the company apart, however, is its early adoption of conscious capitalism and a sincere desire to enhance the lives of all its stakeholders. Eileen Fisher was one of the first clothing companies that insisted on using sustainable materials such as organic cotton, and implemented programs to reduce fabric and fiber waste. Eileen Fisher’s philanthropic efforts focus on business leadership grants to develop and benefit the careers of young women around the world. The company is also committed to enhancing the well-being of its own employees at every level, which is why June was hired. According to June, “Eileen Fisher is not just another company that claims to care about the well-being of its employees but really only cares about how they can contribute to the well-being of the bottom line. Eileen Fisher truly is concerned with its staff as human beings first.” One of the tools June uses to help individuals at Eileen Fisher and elsewhere find a healthy balance between life and work involves what she calls “completing your own circuit.” She believes it is essential that we plug into our own beings first in order to feel empowered, fulfilled, and complete. As June explains, when we outsource our power to a job, a romantic relationship, or any external condition, “we compromise our emotional welfare and risk having someone cut off our power.” She says that completing our own circuit involves a deep internal knowing that “we are fully charged and complete unto ourselves without any need for outside support or validation.

is. It’s a man’s world and show business is a man’s meal, with women generously sprinkled through it like overqualified spice.)

Women overthink everything and men barely think.

Men don’t really grow up. We’re mean when we hurt women; we’re mean when women hurt us.

Women deal with things differently than men. We want them to meet our emotional needs without us having to spell it out for them. It’s an if you love me, you should know what I need type of thing.

why men were given that internal switch and women were not. One little flick and they could turn their feelings on and off—so in control.

Men were more loyal to football teams than they were to women. They never cheated on those.

Joan Joyce is the real deal, a fierce competitor and one of the greatest athletes and coaches in sports history. Tony Renzoni’s moving tribute to Joan shows us why she is a champion in sports and in life. —Billie Jean King, sports icon and equality pioneer The story is all true. Joan Joyce was a tremendous pitcher, as talented as anyone who ever played. [responding to a newspaper account of his early 1960s match-ups against Joan Joyce] —Ted Williams, Hall of Famer and Boston Red Sox great, December 30, 1999 Joan Joyce is truly the greatest female athlete in sports history. And a great coach as well. Tony Renzoni’s well-researched book is a touching tribute to this phenomenal athlete. I highly recommend this book! —Bobby Valentine, former MLB player and manager Quotes for Historic Connecticut Music Venues: From the Coliseum to the Shaboo: I would like to thank Tony Renzoni for giving me the opportunity to write the foreword to his wonderful book. I highly recommend Connecticut Music Venues: From the Coliseum to Shaboo to music lovers everywhere! —Felix Cavaliere, Legendary Hall of Famer (Young Rascals/Rascals, Solo) As the promoter of the concerts in many of the music venues in this book, I hope you enjoy living the special memories this book will give you. —Jim Koplik, Live Nation president, Connecticut and Upstate New York Tony Renzoni has captured the soul and spirit of decades of the Connecticut live music scene, from the wild and wooly perspective of the music venues that housed it. A great read! —Christine Ohlman, the “Beehive Queen,” recording artist/songwriter Tony Renzoni has written a very thoughtful and well-researched tribute to the artists of Connecticut, and we are proud to have Gene included among them. —Lynne Pitney, wife of Gene Pitney Our Alice Cooper band recorded the Billion Dollars Babies album in a mansion in Greenwich. Over the years, there have been many great musicians from Connecticut, and the local scene is rich with good music. Tony Renzoni’s book captures all of that and more. Sit back and enjoy the ride. —Dennis Dunaway, hall of famer and co-founder of the Alice Cooper band. Rock ’n’ Roll music fans from coast to coast will connect to events in this book. Strongly recommended! —Judith Fisher Freed, estate of Alan Freed

This, more than race or gender alone, was the rigid archetype around which the Valley designed its products: ruthless, logical, misanthropic, white, male geeks. For much of the industry’s history, this predilection affected few beyond the women and minorities who struggled to endure its workplaces. But with the advent of the social media era, the industry was building its worst habits into companies that then smuggled those excesses—chauvinism, a culture of harassment, majoritarianism disguised as meritocracy—into the homes and minds of billions of consumers

I was something women and men could agree on. They didn’t like me in the same way, but they liked me with the same intensity, and were all fine with the other sex liking me, too. Isn’t that weird? Think about it. And then stop and ponder something actually important.

Zechariah 14:1–2 (HCSB): A day of the Lord is coming when your plunder will be divided in your presence. I will gather all the nations against Jerusalem for battle. The city will be captured, the houses looted, and the women raped. Half the city will go into exile, but the rest of the people will not be removed from the city.

You old buzzard!” Shakily, Miss Viola rose to her feet. “Why, if women could vote, you’d never been elected in the first place.

Another significant factor in sexual attraction is scent. Th e other person’s smell— that is, his or her natural body scent mixed with the lingering smells of the day— plays a major role in drawing people together and finding optimal partners. Some people report that they know right away from his or her smell that a person is the one for them, and of course conversely some conclude that his or her body odor is a “deal-breaker.” (For a discussion of pheromones, see Chapter 3.) Psychologist Rachel Herz, author of the book Th e Scent of Desire: Discovering Our Enigmatic Sense of Smell (2007), states that “body odor is an external manifestation of the immune system and smells we think are attractive come from people who are most genetically compatible with us” (quoted in Svoboda, 2008). Interestingly, from what we discussed above about symmetry, men and women whose body odors are judged to be sexy by others are also more likely to have symmetrical faces. So, it seems that finding a person with a pleasing body odor is essential. People who want to find out their partners’ true scent can go fragrance-free for a few days. Th ey may worry about their own scent, and some people may indeed not like it, but there will always be persons who will be attracted to their natural body odor (Fisher, 2009; Herz, 2007; Martins et al. 2005; Moalem, 2009; Svoboda, 2009).

Opium was decadent. Opium was for grandfathers.

Fisher’s Los Alamos Experience, Jane Wilson and Charlotte Serber’s Standing By and Making Do: Women of Wartime Los Alamos, Eleanor Jette’s Inside Box 1663, Bernice Brode’s Tales of Los Alamos: Life on the Mesa 1943–1945, Leona Marshall Libby’s The Uranium People, Laura Fermi’s Atoms in the Family, Emily Yellin’s Our Mothers’ War, Studs Turkel’s “The Good War”, Jennet Conant’s 109 East Palace: Robert Oppenheimer and the Secret City of Los Alamos, Jon Hunner’s, Inventing Los Alamos: The Growth of an Atomic Community, and Edith Warner’s In the Shadow of Los Alamos: Selected Writings.

Lord, why are we not seeing miracles such as these in our western culture? Is it because we are bogged down in traditions and doctrines?” I will never forget His reply: “No, Daughter, these people are receiving because they have no fear of man. ” The fear of man is our greatest detriment to knowing and serving God. Only as we lay down our worries about what people think of us and what to expect of others can God honestly and openly speak into our lives. Often we have preconceived ideas of how a person must change before he or she can come to Christ. And yet when Jesus called us to be fishers of men (and women), He told us to go out and bring them in; He did not tell us to clean up the fish before reeling them into our churches. I have never seen a fish yet who was cleaned up before it was caught.

Was it me? Was I too cold? Too inexperienced? Not pretty enough? Not good enough in bed? And when disloyal, seed-sowing scum buckets slept with other girls, why did women look inward to find fault in themselves?

On this road they saw some other men, fishers and farmers Elske was told; some of the men were accompanied by women whose hair was wrapped around with colored cloths. These men and women stared at Elske, in her fur boots and wolfskin cloak, but when she stared back and them they looked away.

I said, "I'm gay." "Huh?" "I'm a homophile." "What kinda file?" "I go for men. Like Dot Fisher goes for women. I'm a homosexual. 'Gay,' we call it. Even if The New York Times won't.

I prefer women with a little more experience…” I don’t mean it. I don’t mean any of it. Knowing I’m the only man who has ever been inside of you makes me feel like a fucking king and the luckiest man alive. I’m sorry, I love you, please forgive me. She tells me she hates me and that empty shell crumbles to pieces and I know there’s nothing left. “It doesn’t get better when I come home to you…I hate this life…” I’m lying! Every word is a lie. I love our life and I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. I love you, I love you, I love you.

women as a sex and particularly

One year ago, just after Carrie Fisher's passing, I dedicated my Sci-fi Thriller The First Ones There to her. When you open the book, this is what it says... “Thank you for inspiring generations of women, young and old, that princesses can hold their own. Rest in Peace.

She wore pearls and bold colors. Her blouse and skirt were both super-tight. All the senior partners at FFD were dressed likewise. It had been Sadie Fisher’s idea. When Sadie first started representing women who had been sexually harassed or assaulted, she had been told to “tone down” the outfits, to wear clothing that was both drab and shapeless. Sadie hated that. It was more victim blaming and she wouldn’t stand for that. Now the lawyers on this floor did the opposite. “Working

Men often talked about a woman's intuition. Ostensibly it sounded complimentary and yet its intention was usually patronising and dismissive: a term for irrational flights of fancy that these silly creatures would occasionally dream up from nowhere. Sarah understood the true nature of what they were describing. It was not irrational, and nor was it a mystical sixth sense resultant of a unique feminine sensitivity. It was a simple, practical consequence of observation. When you put them in a room, women paid attention to the subtle signs people were sending, while the men concerned themselves only with the impression they were making.

Raven wondered how many enduring misapprehensions in medicine (and other fields, for that matter) were down to ambition and the desire to be vindicated. How many proud men had only sought out the evidence in support of their own hypotheses and eschewed that which might inconveniently put their ideas to the test? The world needed fewer such proud men, or perhaps it merely required more women like Sarah. An increase in the latter would guarantee a reduction in the former.

It's a good idea, generally, not to offend women with that shade of Titian hair,' mused Phryne.

She had met women of this cast of mind before—the clingers, fragile and utterly ruthless, who wore down friend after friend with their emotional demands, always ill and exhausted and badly treated, but still retaining enough energy to scream reproaches at the retreating friend as she fled, guilt-stricken, down the hall. And the next week to replace that friend—always female—with another. Phryne recognized Mrs Andrews as an emotional trap, and had no choice but to throw herself in.

I'd adored him. In a flash he'd gone from adoring me to treating me like a stranger. It was shocking. I'd never been able to figure it out--why men were given that internal switch and women were not. One little flick and they could turn their feelings on and off--so in control. I used to love this one and now I love that one. Men were more loyal to football teams that they were to women. They never cheated on those.

Miss Fisher, what is this all about?’ demanded Hoskins, who had never approved of women as a sex and particularly disliked excitable ones. ‘Why the ladder?

Several voices called out suggestions. Phryne replied so indelicately that there was another silence. Not even the dock women swore like that.

Joel 2:28–31 (NLT): “Then, after doing all those things, I will pour out my Spirit upon all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy. Your old men will dream dreams, and your young men will see visions. In those days I will pour out my Spirit even on servants—men and women alike. And I will cause wonders in the heavens and on the earth—blood and fire and columns of smoke. The sun will become dark, and the moon will turn blood red before that great and terrible day of the LORD arrives.

I wanted to eat, yes, but more than anything I was hungry to know. I wanted to know about foods I’d never heard of, but I also wanted to know about the best versions of food I already knew. Surely the cheese you ate in France was different from the Brie we bought at the supermarket? Because I thought that supermarket Brie was pretty damn good. The notion that there existed some version of this delight that I couldn’t even grasp until I consumed it was the tantalizer that spurred me into nearly everything I did for about twenty years. Each new flavor felt like a dare and an impossible promise. All my books were telling me there were transporting versions of everything I knew out in the world. It was all—MFK Fisher’s paean to ultra-fresh peas, Ephron’s description of cool ripe tomatoes hitting hot linguine—about magic, not stumbling on it but learning how to conjure it.

Along drowned coasts of this variety you only see, in a sort of speeded-up way, what is true of the whole world and everything upon it: the Darwinian world of passage, of missing links, of beetles with soldered, flightless wings, of snakes with vestigial feet dragging slowly through the underbrush. Everything is marred and maimed and slightly out of focus—everything in the world. As for man, he is no different from the rest. His back aches, he ruptures easily, his women have difficulties in childbirth—all because he has struggled up upon his hind legs without having achieved a perfect adjustment to his new posture.

Within himself, Tom Fisher smiles serenely. It's almost too easy. Promise these morons something they want. Let them believe in it. Then take it away. And tell them who's to blame.

A variation on lifetime monogamy is serial-monogamy, which refers to forming a pair-bond long enough to raise a few offspring (typically, for one breeding season) and then forming a new pairbond later. Evolutionary psychologists such as Buss (2005) have argued that serial monogamy is the typical mating pattern among humans, with strict life-long monogamy enforced in some cultures through religious norms. Not surprisingly, the typical human pair-bond lasts roughly 5 years, about the same length of time that women in traditional cultures need to raise one child through pregnancy, breast-feeding, and toddler-hood (Fisher, 2004; Jankowiak & Fisher, 1992). Temporary pairbonding is probably an adaptation to keep fathers close to home, where they can offer protection and resources to their partner and vulnerable offspring.

The greater a woman's difficulty in reaching orgasm, the more likely she is to be concerned about the lack of dependability of love objects. She is concerned about how transitory relationships are and how easily loved ones can be lost.

Maybe that’s why God designed women to be fertile each month, rather than, say, quarterly: so we’d have to keep thinking and thinking about it, revisiting, revising, comparing our desires and needs against our current capabilities. Our challenge is to think about eternity, but to act in the now.

They expect that potential employers and coworkers will attempt to measure their commitment and competence through their participation in stereotypically masculine activities, such as tinkering (Margolis and Fisher 2003; McIlwee and Robinson 1994).

often present my patients with alternative options for more immediate symptom relief. I have been prescribing the Fisher Wallace Cranial Electrical Stimulator (CES), a device that generates a low-intensity alternating current that is transmitted across the skull, for many years now (I have