There is in every true woman's heart a spark of heavenly fire, which lies dormant in the broad daylight of prosperity; but which kindles up, and beams, and blazes in the dark hour of adversity.
Unhappy as the event must be for Lydia, we may draw from it this useful lesson: — that loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable, that one false step involves her in endless ruin, that her reputation is no less brittle than it is beautiful, and that she cannot be too much guarded in her behaviour towards the undeserving of the other sex.
Now we ain't makin' stories
And we ain't layin' plans
'Cause a man still loves a woman
And a woman still loves a man
(Just a same though)
Sisters are doin' it for themselves.
Now this is a song to celebrate
The conscious liberation of the female state
Mothers, daughters and their daughters too
Woman to woman
We're singin' with you
The inferior sex got a new exterior
We got doctors, lawyers, politicians too
Everybody, take a look around
Can you see, can you see, can you see
There's a woman right next to you (we say)!
Sisters are doin' it for themselves
Standin' on their own two feet
And ringin' on their own bells
Sisters are doin' it for themselves.
We are alone. No matter what they tell you, we women are always alone.
— You feel pretty manly to me.
— And you feel like a woman worthy of a fight, Ms. Greene.
A woman isn’t defined by her boyfriends. She’s defined by her achievements. And her shoes.