Sale Quotes

Have you really read all those books in your room?” Alaska laughing- “Oh God no. I’ve maybe read a third of ‘em. But I’m going to read them all. I call it my Life’s Library. Every summer since I was little, I’ve gone to garage sales and bought all the books that looked interesting. So I always have something to read.

I find out a lot about myself by sleeping. Dreams, they are who I am when I’m too tired to be me.

You can’t put a price tag on love. But if you could, I’d wait for it to go on sale.

One of my main regrets in life is giving considerable thought to inconsiderate people.

I’m not waiting until my hair turns white to become patient and wise. Nope, I’m dyeing my hair tonight.

It isn't by getting out of the world that we become enlightened, but by getting into the world…by getting so tuned in that we can ride the waves of our existence and never get tossed because we become the waves.

If I told you I’ve worked hard to get where I’m at, I’d be lying, because I have no idea where I am right now.

I can tell if two people are in love by how they hold each other’s hands, and how thick their sanitation gloves are.

I like to call in sick to work at places where I’ve never held a job. Then when the manager tells me I don’t work there, I tell them I’d like to. But not today, as I’m sick.

Seindah apa pun huruf terukir, dapatkah ia bermakna apabila tak ada jeda? Dapatkan ia dimengerti jika tak ada spasi? Bukankah kita baru bisa bergerak jika ada jarak? Dan saling menyayang bila ada ruang?

I told her I'd wait forever for her, but that was before I found somebody else who'd give me a ride home.

Laughter is the sound of the soul dancing. My soul probably looks like Fred Astaire.

I don't understand people who say they need more "Me Time." What other time is there? Do these people spend part of their day in someone else's body?

You're in an awfully good mood," he observed. "Was there a sale at Khakis-R-Us?

Love is what you make it. Unfortunately, I can’t make it today, as I have a doctor’s appointment.

What does it mean to be the best? It means you have to be better than the number two guy. But what gratification is there in that? He's a loser—that’s why he's number two.

It’s true, I can’t make you love me. But I can refuse to let you out of your cage.

Advertising is legitimised lying.

A person who has not been completely alienated, who has remained sensitive and able to feel, who has not lost the sense of dignity, who is not yet "for sale", who can still suffer over the suffering of others, who has not acquired fully the having mode of existence - briefly, a person who has remained a person and not become a thing - cannot help feeling lonely, powerless, isolated in present-day society. He cannot help doubting himself and his own convictions, if not his sanity. He cannot help suffering, even though he can experience moments of joy and clarity that are absent in the life of his "normal" contemporaries. Not rarely will he suffer from neurosis that results from the situation of a sane man living in an insane society, rather than that of the more conventional neurosis of a sick man trying to adapt himself to a sick society. In the process of going further in his analysis, i.e. of growing to greater independence and productivity,his neurotic symptoms will cure themselves.

Sometimes people think they know you. They know a few facts about you, and they piece you together in a way that makes sense to them. And if you don't know yourself very well, you might even believe that they are right. But the truth is, that isn't you. That isn't you at all.

When I saw you, I saw love. When I saw you naked, I saw lust. When I saw you with my clone in a dream, I saw the future.

I've often wondered what makes a relationship last. I guess the best answer is it's the one right after the next to the last one.

Sometimes I ask myself, "Do I have the courage to do the right thing when it matters most?" And that answer, I'm afraid, is silence.

Blood may be thicker than water, but it's certainly not as thick as ketchup. Nor does it go as well with French fries.

I want to go to sleep in my time machine and wake up eight hours in the future.

My girlfriend bought me a collared shirt for my birthday, mainly so I don’t get too far ahead of her when she takes me for a walk.

If love had feathers and tasted like dog food, then I suggest you wear shoes with your banana pudding. (This statement also defines my political beliefs).

If you were to ask me the best time of day to fall in love, I'd say, "Now." But you'd also have to remember to factor in the fact that my watch is eleven minutes fast.

Disappear Here. The syringe fills with blood. You're a beautiful boy and that's all that matters. Wonder if he's for sale. People are afraid to merge. To merge.

Don’t try to hog loneliness and keep it all to yourself. Share it with a special someone.

Well, you can't have heartbreak without love," Dan pointed out. "If your heart was really broken, then at least you know you really loved him.

If I had a dollar for every time a random woman walked up to me and tried to seduce me, I'd have 50 cents. That's assuming drag queens are half price.

That's the problem with life. You never get enough time to stare at your ceiling and try to figure out what's going on.

Gather out of star-dust, Earth-dust, Cloud-dust, Storm-dust, And splinters of hail, One handful of dream-dust, Not for sale.

Love is a bicycle with two pancakes for wheels. You may see love as more of an exercise in hard work, but I see it as more of a breakfast on the go.

لحظه ی دیدار نزدیک است باز من دیوانه ام ، مستم باز می لرزد ، دلم ، دستم باز گویی در جهان دیگری هستم های ! نخراشی به غفلت گونه ام را ، تیغ های ، نپریشی صفای زلفکم را ، دست و آبرویم را نریزی ، دل ای نخورده مست لحظه ی دیدار نزدیک است

Selling something only to steal it back to sell again is not only dishonest, but highly profitable.

As I moved deeper into the room, his gaze dropped to my feet, and worked its way back to my face. I was wearing faded jeans, boots, and a snug pink Juicy T-shirt I got on sale at TJ Maxx last summer that said I’m a Juicy girl. “I bet you are,” he murmured.

Some people try to change the world one life at a time. Others try to change the world one death at a time. And I try to change the world one bucket full of dirt at a time.

People are who they are and, try as you might, you cannot make them be what you want them to be.

Greed, envy, sloth, pride and gluttony: these are not vices anymore. No, these are marketing tools. Lust is our way of life. Envy is just a nudge towards another sale. Even in our relationships we consume each other, each of us looking for what we can get out of the other. Our appetites are often satisfied at the expense of those around us. In a dog-eat-dog world we lose part of our humanity.

Pretend that every single person you meet has a sign around his or her neck that says, "Make me feel important." Not only will you succeed in sales, you will succeed in life.

I believe that a person's taste in music tells you a lot about them. In some cases, it tells you everything you need to know.

Love one person at a time, that’s the motto I’ll try to get my clones to live by.

I feel as if I am an ad for the sale of a haunted house: 18 rooms $37,000 I’m yours ghosts and all.

I have two friends, Steve and Martin. But I'd happily replace both for the friendship of Steve Martin.

Every politician has a promising career. Unfortunately, most of them do not keep those promises.

There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I'm not going to let anybody see you. there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I pur whiskey on him and inhale cigarette smoke and the whores and the bartenders and the grocery clerks never know that he's in there. there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too tough for him, I say, stay down, do you want to mess me up? you want to screw up the works? you want to blow my book sales in Europe? there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too clever, I only let him out at night sometimes when everybody's asleep. I say, I know that you're there, so don't be sad. then I put him back, but he's singing a little in there, I haven't quite let him die and we sleep together like that with our secret pact and it's nice enough to make a man weep, but I don't weep, do you?

Someone out there is looking for exactly what you've got…and will never try and undercut your value or question your worth. Some things in life just can’t be bartered over or placed on the sale rack – and your self-worth is at the top of the list.

In the land of Gibberish, the man who makes sense, the man who speaks clearly, clearly speaks nonsense.

If love were a dolphin with wings and a unicorn’s horn, being ridden by a blind leprechaun dressed like Rasputin, would you believe in second chances for love at first sight?

The money we spend to help you is really to help ourselves. We invest in you because you will do great things, and we want to be part of it.

I’m only marginally qualified to be giving advice at all. My body mass index is certainly not ideal, I frequently use my debit card to buy things that cost less than three dollars because I never have cash on me, and my bedroom is so untidy it looks like vandals ransacked the Anthropologie Sale section. I’m kind of a mess.

Don’t shave my head to make your wig of selfishness. Shave it because you care.

I could get you to smile like that, and without sales tax." I whirled around to find the real Patch standing in the fitting room behind me. He was wearing jeans and a snug white tee. His arms were folded loosely over his chest, and his black eyes smiled down at me. Heat that wasn't entirely uncomfortable flushed through my body. "I could make all kinds of pervert jokes right now," I quipped.

The measure of love is to love without measure.

I am a slave to your love. Well, more like indentured servant.

I doubt if there are many normal women who can resist looking at houses. I believe, in fact, that when a house is up for sale more than half the people who look over it are not prospective buyers, but merely ladies who cannot resist exploring someone else's house.

I’m not courageous. In fact, when I shadow box I wear boxing gloves that are outfitted with flashlights.

When I compliment you, I compliment myself, because I am who I associate with.

Love flows like flowers, and grows like water. I’m so thirsty for romance I could drink a dozen roses.

0 plus 100 equals 100. But so does 50 plus 50, only with more balance. Let this be a lesson in love.

My brain is divided into two butterflies, and both are in love with your rose-shaped heart. If you've got the garden, I've got my whole life.

Don't you ever want to have just one thing that no one else knows about, so no one can ruin it for you?

The point is, when you ask, “What do you want for dinner?” we’re thinking about screwing you on the kitchen counter. When you’re telling us about the sappy film you watched with your girlfriends last week, we’re thinking about the porno we saw on cable last night. When you show us the designer shoes you bought on sale, we’re thinking how nice they would look on our shoulders. I just thought you’d want to know. Don’t shoot the messenger

Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections, but instantly set about remedying them—every day begin the task anew.

Sometimes, when you are worn down, day after day, relentlessly, with no reprieve for years piled on years, sometimes you lose everything but the ability to cry.

Chasing a man is not winning. The only thing you win is the loss of your dignity. Confidence is knowing your value, instead of expecting a man’s love to provide you with value.

And that’s what is so insidious about talk. Anyone can talk about himself or herself. Even a child knows how to gossip and chatter. Most people are decent at hype and sales. So what is scarce and rare? Silence. The ability to deliberately keep yourself out of the conversation and subsist without its validation. Silence is the respite of the confident and the strong.

I’ll be your Dostoevsky, if you’ll be my Tolstoy. Our life together will be so full of despair that death will be like a gulag full of joy.

The thing with your heart's desire is that your heart doesn't even know what it desires until it turns up. Like a tie at a tag sale, some perfect thing in a crate of nothing, you were just there, uninvited, and now suddenly the party was over and you were all I wanted. I hadn't even been looking, not for you, and now you were my heart's desire.

If it’s the last kiss, we’d better make it last. I hope you don’t have anywhere to be, because I have the rest of my life free.

Throughout it all, you are still, always, you: beautiful and bruised, known and unknowable.

Music is crucial. Beyond no way can I overstress this fact. Let's say you're southbound on the interstate, cruising alone in the middle lane, listening to AM radio. Up alongside comes a tractor trailer of logs or concrete pipe, a tie-down strap breaks, and the load dumps on top of your little sheetmetal ride. Crushed under a world of concrete, you're sandwiched like so much meat salad between layers of steel and glass. In that last, fast flutter of your eyelids, you looking down that long tunnel toward the bright God Light and your dead grandma walking up to hug you--do you want to be hearing another radio commercial for a mega, clearance, closeout, blow-out liquidation car-stereo sale?

Cinta kan tidak butuh tali. Ia membebaskan. Jadi buat apa kita melawan arusnya dan malah saling menjajah?

I love Huey Lewis, but not the News, because the News is too depressing.

Sometimes I’ll forget a utensil’s name, and I’ll say, “Give me that pointy thing,” as I point with my pointy finger.

Do not wish to be anything but what you are, and try to be that perfectly.

I’m a Pisces, and people say that Pisces make the best the best lovers. That’s because Pisces are fish, and it’s like my grandpa always used to say, “The next best thing to making love to a mermaid, is having sex with a fish.

Our love went from fly to flower to butterfly, and it was meant to beautifully flutter, not sit still on a shelf like a trophy to be collected.

People tell me I look like my father. I've never seen my dad, so does that mean I look invisible?

You think it's so easy to change yourself. You think it's so easy, but it's not. True, things don't stay the same forever: couches are replaced, boys leave, you discover a song, your body becomes forever scarred. And with each of these moments you change and change again, your true self spinning, shifting positions-- but always at last it returns to you, like a dancer on the floor. Because throughout it all, you are still, always, you: beautiful and bruised, known and unknowable. And isn't that - just you - enough.

In regards to the price of commodities, the rise of wages operates as simple interest does, the rise of profit operates like compound interest. Our merchants and masters complain much of the bad effects of high wages in raising the price and lessening the sale of goods. They say nothing concerning the bad effects of high profits. They are silent with regard to the pernicious effects of their own gains. They complain only of those of other people.

Suatu saat jika kau beruntung menemukan cinta sejatimu. Ketika kalian saling bertatap untuk pertama kalinya, waktu akan berhenti. Seluruh semesta alam takzim menyampaikan salam. Ada cahaya keindahan yang menyemburat, meggetarkan jantung. Hanya orang - orang yang beruntung yang bisa melihat cahaya itu, apalagi berkesempatan bisa merasakannya.

Cred că cea mai mare invenţie a omenirii nu a fost roata,ci tocul. Ceea ce s-a întâmplat cu primul bărbat care a văzut gamba acelei femei tensionată în pantoful cu toc trebuie să fie echivalat cu primul pas pe Lună. Pentru mine,tocul si tot ce vine odată cu el reprezintă esenţa feminităţii. Odată cu ridicarea pe tocuri,femeia proiectează în ochii noştri superioritatea rasei sale. Bărbaţii n-au beneficiat nicicând de o asemenea invenţie,fie că vorbim de pumnal,sabie,ceas,smoching sau joben.

I have always loved camping, ever since I was eight, and was forcibly stuffed in a trunk and dropped off in the middle of the forest. My dad was a complex man, but I believe he was trying to show me the value of camping.

Bagi manusia, hidup itu juga sebab-akibat, Ray. Bedanya, bagi manusia sebab-akibat itu membentuk peta dengan ukuran raksasa. Kehidupanmu menyebabkan perubahan garis kehidupan orang lain, kehidupan orang lain mengakibatkan perubahan garis kehidupan orang lainnya lagi, kemudian entah pada siklus yang keberapa, kembali lagi ke garis kehidupanmu.... Saling mempengaruhi, saling berinteraksi.... Sungguh kalau kulukiskan peta itu maka ia bagai bola raksasa dengan benang jutaan warna yang saling melilit, saling menjalin, lingkar-melingkar. Indah. Sungguh indah. Sama sekali tidak rumit.

To be Queen Elizabeth within a definite area, deciding sales, banquets, labours, and holidays; to be Whitely within a certain area, providing toys, boots, cakes and books; to be Aristotle within a certain area, teaching morals, manners, theology, and hygiene; I can imagine how this can exhaust the mind, but I cannot imagine how it could narrow it. How can it be a large career to tell other people about the Rule of Three, and a small career to tell one's own children about the universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone and narrow to be everything to someone? No, a woman's function is laborious, but because it is gigantic, not because it is minute.

To live in a city is to live the life that it was built for, to adapt to its schedule and rhythms, to move within the transit layout made for you during the morning and evening rush, winding through the crowds of fellow commuters. To live in a city is to consume its offerings. To eat at its restaurants. To drink at its bars. To shop at its stores. To pay its sales taxes. To give a dollar to its homeless. To live in a city is to take part in and to propagate its impossible systems. To wake up. To go to work in the morning. It is also to take pleasure in those systems because, otherwise, who could repeat the same routines, year in, year out?

Rasa memiliki itu hidup seperti sel. Semula satu dan kemudian terpecah jadi seribu satu. Dan aku menyimpan sel-sel yang sangat sehat. Ia akan terpecah diluar kendali cinta itu sendiri. Sel ini terus bertambah dan merambah. Mereka hidup melingkari kita, semenjak kita saling mencinta. Suka tak suka.

Snake Street is an area I should avoid. Yet that night I was drawn there as surely as if I had an appointment.  The Snake House is shabby on the outside to hide the wealth within. Everyone knows of the wealth, but facades, like the park’s wall, must be maintained. A lantern hung from the porch eaves. A sign, written in Utte, read ‘Kinship of the Serpent’. I stared at that sign, at that porch, at the door with its twisted handle, and wondered what the people inside would do if I entered. Would they remember me? Greet me as Kin? Or drive me out and curse me for faking my death?  Worse, would they expect me to redon the life I’ve shed? Staring at that sign, I pissed in the street like the Mearan savage I’ve become. As I started to leave, I saw a woman sitting in the gutter. Her lamp attracted me. A memsa’s lamp, three tiny flames to signify the Holy Trinity of Faith, Purity, and Knowledge.  The woman wasn’t a memsa. Her young face was bruised and a gash on her throat had bloodied her clothing. Had she not been calmly assessing me, I would have believed the wound to be mortal. I offered her a copper.  She refused, “I take naught for naught,” and began to remove trinkets from a cloth bag, displaying them for sale. Her Utte accent had been enough to earn my coin. But to assuage her pride I commented on each of her worthless treasures, fighting the urge to speak Utte. (I spoke Universal with the accent of an upper class Mearan though I wondered if she had seen me wetting the cobblestones like a shameless commoner.) After she had arranged her wares, she looked up at me. “What do you desire, O Noble Born?” I laughed, certain now that she had seen my act in front of the Snake House and, letting my accent match the coarseness of my dress, I again offered the copper.  “Nay, Noble One. You must choose.” She lifted a strand of red beads. “These to adorn your lady’s bosom?”             I shook my head. I wanted her lamp. But to steal the light from this woman ... I couldn’t ask for it. She reached into her bag once more and withdrew a book, leather-bound, the pages gilded on the edges. “Be this worthy of desire, Noble Born?”  I stood stunned a moment, then touched the crescent stamped into the leather and asked if she’d stolen the book. She denied it. I’ve had the Training; she spoke truth. Yet how could she have come by a book bearing the Royal Seal of the Haesyl Line? I opened it. The pages were blank. “Take it,” she urged. “Record your deeds for study. Lo, the steps of your life mark the journey of your soul.”   I told her I couldn’t afford the book, but she smiled as if poverty were a blessing and said, “The price be one copper. Tis a wee price for salvation, Noble One.”   So I bought this journal. I hide it under my mattress. When I lie awake at night, I feel the journal beneath my back and think of the woman who sold it to me. Damn her. She plagues my soul. I promised to return the next night, but I didn’t. I promised to record my deeds. But I can’t. The price is too high.

Plastic ware," he said slowly, "like knives and forks and spoons?" I brushed a bit of dirt off the back of my car—was that a scratch?—and said casually, "Yeah, I guess.Just the basics, you know." "Did you need plastic ware?" he asked. I shrugged. "Because," he went on, and I fought the urge to squirm, "it's so funny, because I need plastic ware. Badly." "Can we go inside, please?" I asked, slamming the trunk shut. "It's hot out here." He looked at the bag again, then at me. And then, slowly, the smile I knew and dreaded crept across his face. "You bought me plastic ware," he said. "Didn't you?' "No," I growled, picking at my license plate. "You did!" he hooted, laughing out loud. "You bought me some forks. And knives. And spoons. Because—" "No," I said loudly. "—you love me!" He grinned, as if he'd solved the puzzler for all time, as I felt a flush creep across my face. Stupid Lissa. I could have killed her. "It was on sale," I told him again, as if this was some kind of an excuse. "You love me," he said simply, taking the bag and adding it to the others. "Only seven bucks," I added, but he was already walking away, so sure of himself. "It was on clearance, for God's sake." "Love me," he called out over his shoulder, in a singsong voice. "You. Love. Me.

قاصدک ! هان ، چه خبر آوردی ؟ از کجا وز که خبر آوردی ؟ خوش خبر باشی ، اما ،‌اما گرد بام و در من بی ثمر می گردی انتظار خبری نیست مرا نه ز یاری نه ز دیار و دیاری باری برو آنجا که بود چشمی و گوشی با کس برو آنجا که تو را منتظرند قاصدک در دل من همه کورند و کرند دست بردار ازین در وطن خویش غریب قاصد تجربه های همه تلخ با دلم می گوید که دروغی تو ، دروغ که فریبی تو. ، فریب قاصدک 1 هان ، ولی ... آخر ... ای وای راستی ایا رفتی با باد ؟ با توام ، ای! کجا رفتی ؟ ای راستی ایا جایی خبری هست هنوز ؟ مانده خکستر گرمی ، جایی ؟ در اجاقی طمع شعله نمی بندم خردک شرری هست هنوز ؟ قاصدک ابرهای همه عالم شب و روز در دلم می گریند

I had this feeling suddenly. I get this feeling a lot, but I don’t know if there’s one word for it. It’s not nervous or sad or even lonely. It’s all of that, and then a bit more. The feeling is I don’t belong here. I don’t know how I got here, and I don’t know how long I can stay before everyone else realizes that I am an impostor. I am a fraud. I’ve gotten this feeling nearly everywhere I have ever been in my life. There’s nothing you can do about it except drink some water and hope that it subsides. Or you can leave.

SEMENTRA KITA SALING BERBISIK Sementara kita saling berbisik Untuk lebih lama tinggal Pada debu, cinta yang tinggal berupa Bunga kertas dan lintasan angka-angla Ketika kita saling berbisik Di luar semakin sengit malam hari Memadamkan bekas-bekas telapak kaki, menyekap sisa-sisa unggun api Sebelum fajar. Ada yang masih bersikeras abadi. (1966)

You don’t need fashion designers when you are young. Have faith in your own bad taste. Buy the cheapest thing in your local thrift shop - the clothes that are freshly out of style with even the hippest people a few years older than you. Get on the fashion nerves of your peers, not your parents - that is the key to fashion leadership. Ill-fitting is always stylish. But be more creative - wear your clothes inside out, backward, upside down. Throw bleach in a load of colored laundry. Follow the exact opposite of the dry cleaning instructions inside the clothes that cost the most in your thrift shop. Don’t wear jewelry - stick Band-Aids on your wrists or make a necklace out of them. Wear Scotch tape on the side of your face like a bad face-lift attempt. Mismatch your shoes. Best yet, do as Mink Stole used to do: go to the thrift store the day after Halloween, when the children’s trick-or-treat costumes are on sale, buy one, and wear it as your uniform of defiance.

I'm going to ask you to remember the prostituted, the homeless, the battered, the raped, the tortured, the murdered, the raped-then-murdered, the murdered-then-raped; and I am going to ask you to remember the photographed, the ones that any or all of the above happened to and it was photographed and now the photographs are for sale in our free countries. I want you to think about those who have been hurt for the fun, the entertainment, the so-called speech of others; those who have been hurt for profit, for the financial benefit of pimps and entrepreneurs. I want you to remember the perpetrator and I am going to ask you to remember the victims: not just tonight but tomorrow and the next day. I want you to find a way to include them -- the perpetrators and the victims -- in what you do, how you think, how you act, what you care about, what your life means to you. Now, I know, in this room, some of you are the women I have been talking about. I know that. People around you may not. I am going to ask you to use every single thing you can remember about what was done to you -- how it was done, where, by whom, when, and, if you know -- why -- to begin to tear male dominance to pieces, to pull it apart, to vandalize it, to destabilize it, to mess it up, to get in its way, to fuck it up. I have to ask you to resist, not to comply, to destroy the power men have over women, to refuse to accept it, to abhor it and to do whatever is necessary despite its cost to you to change it.

La rayuela se juega con una piedrita que hay que empujar con la punta del zapato. Ingredientes: una acera, una piedrita, un zapato, y un bello dibujo con tiza, preferentemente de colores. En lo alto está el Cielo, abajo está la Tierra, es muy difícil llegar con la piedrita al Cielo, casi siempre se calcula mal y la piedra sale del dibujo. Poco a poco, sin embargo, se va adquiriendo la habilidad necesaria para salvar las diferentes casillas (rayuela caracol, rayuela rectangular, rayuela de fantasía, poco usada) y un día se aprende a salir de la Tierra y remontar la piedrita hasta el Cielo, hasta entrar en el Cielo, (Et tous nos amours, sollozó Emmanuèle boca abajo), lo malo es que justamente a esa altura, cuando casi nadie ha aprendido a remontar la piedrita hasta el Cielo, se acaba de golpe la infancia y se cae en las novelas, en la angustia al divino cohete, en la especulación de otro Cielo al que también hay que aprender a llegar. Y porque se ha salido de la infancia (Je n'oublierai pas le temps des cérises, pataleó Emmanuèle en el suelo) se olvida que para llegar al Cielo se necesitan, como ingredientes, una piedrita y la punta de un zapato.

Babies need not to be taught a trade, but to be introduced to a world. To put the matter shortly, woman is generally shut up in a house with a human being at the time when he asks all the questions that there are, and some that there aren't. It would be odd if she retained any of the narrowness of a specialist. Now if anyone says that this duty of general enlightenment (even when freed from modern rules and hours, and exercised more spontaneously by a more protected person) is in itself too exacting and oppressive, I can understand the view. I can only answer that our race has thought it worth while to cast this burden on women in order to keep common-sense in the world. But when people begin to talk about this domestic duty as not merely difficult but trivial and dreary, I simply give up the question. For I cannot with the utmost energy of imagination conceive what they mean. When domesticity, for instance, is called drudgery, all the difficulty arises from a double meaning in the word. If drudgery only means dreadfully hard work, I admit the woman drudges in the home, as a man might drudge at the Cathedral of Amiens or drudge behind a gun at Trafalgar. But if it means that the hard work is more heavy because it is trifling, colorless and of small import to the soul, then as I say, I give it up; I do not know what the words mean. To be Queen Elizabeth within a definite area, deciding sales, banquets, labors and holidays; to be Whiteley within a certain area, providing toys, boots, sheets, cakes. and books, to be Aristotle within a certain area, teaching morals, manners, theology, and hygiene; I can understand how this might exhaust the mind, but I cannot imagine how it could narrow it. How can it be a large career to tell other people's children about the Rule of Three, and a small career to tell one's own children about the universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone, and narrow to be everything to someone? No; a woman's function is laborious, but because it is gigantic, not because it is minute. I will pity Mrs. Jones for the hugeness of her task; I will never pity her for its smallness.

خانه ام آتش گرفته ست ، آتشی جانسوز هر طرف می سوزد این آتش پرده ها و فرشها را ، تارشان با پود من به هر سو می دوم گریان در لهیب آتش پر دود وز میان خنده هایم تلخ و خروش گریه ام ناشاد از دورن خسته ی سوزان می کنم فریاد ، ای فریاد ! ی فریاد خانه ام آتش گرفته ست ، آتشی بی رحم همچنان می سوزد این آتش نقشهایی را که من بستم به خون دل بر سر و چشم در و دیوار در شب رسوای بی ساحل وای بر من ، سوزد و سوزد غنچه هایی را که پروردم به دشواری در دهان گود گلدانها روزهای سخت بیماری از فراز بامهاشان ، شاد دشمنانم موذیانه خنده های فتحشان بر لب بر من آتش به جان ناظر در پناه این مشبک شب من به هر سو می دوم ، گ گریان ازین بیداد می کنم فریاد ، ای فریاد ! ای فریاد وای بر من ، همچنان می سوزد این آتش آنچه دارم یادگار و دفتر و دیوان و آنچه دارد منظر و ایوان من به دستان پر از تاول این طرف را می کنم خاموش وز لهیب آن روم از هوش ز آندگر سو شعله برخیزد ، به گردش دود تا سحرگاهان ، که می داند که بود من شود نابود خفته اند این مهربان همسایگانم شاد در بستر صبح از من مانده بر جا مشت خکستر وای ، ایا هیچ سر بر می کنند از خواب مهربان همسایگانم از پی امداد ؟ سوزدم این آتش بیدادگر بنیاد می کنم فریاد ، ای فریاد ! ای فریاد