This site is dedicated to the memory of Dr. Alan William Smolowe who gave birth to the creation of this database.
And the smile that is worth the praises of earth is the smile that shines through tears.
It is impossible for one class to appreciate the wrongs of another.
Government | Object | Power | Government |
Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, fully Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward
While I may paint in the tints or outlines of rocks and beaches, dawns and harbor, fleet and wharf, I never draw portraits of my neighbors or of my friends.
Woman's reproductive organs are far older than man's and far more highly evolved. Even in the lowest mammals, as well as in woman, the ovaries, uterus, vagina, etc., are similar, indicating that the female reproductive system was one of the first things perfected by nature. On the other hand, the male reproductive organs, the testicles and the penis, vary as much among species and through the course of evolution as does the shape of the foot — from hoof to paw. Apparently, then, the male penis evolved to suit the vagina, not the vagina to suit the penis.
Elizabeth II, born Elizabeth Alexandra May NULL
It seems incredible, and I love them no less; and I can say that I would rather die than see any diminution of it on one side or the other.
Asexual reproduction by females, parthenogenesis, is not only possible but it still occurs here and there in the modern world, perhaps as an atavistic survival of the once only means of reproduction in an all-female world.
Earth | Man | Power | Religion | System | Will | Woman | Wonder | World | Old |
Emanuel Swedenborg, born Emanujel Swedberg
There is granted to everyone after death the opportunity of amending his life, if it is at all possible.
Earnestness | Mind | Power | Spirit | Work |
A work of art is a corner of nature seen through a temperament.
Emily Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
I took one Draught of Life — I'll tell you what I paid — Precisely an existence — The market price, they said.
Emily Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
I lost a world the other day. Has anybody found? You'll know it by the rows of stars around it's forehead bound. A rich man might not notice it; yet to my frugal eye of more esteem than ducats. Oh! Find it, sir, for me!
Emily Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
A precious mouldering pleasure 't is to meet an antique book, in just the dress his century wore; a privilege, I think, his venerable hand to take, and warming in our own, a passage back, or two, to make to times when he was young. His quaint opinions to inspect, his knowledge to unfold on what concerns our mutual mind. The literature of old; what interested scholars most, what competitions ran when Plato was a certainty, and Sophocles a man; when Sappho was a living girl, and Beatrice wore the gown that Dante deified. Facts, centuries before, he traverses familiar, as one should come to town and tell you all your dreams were true: he lived where dreams were born. His presence is enchantment, you beg him not to go; old volumes shake their vellum heads and tantalize just so.
This must have led to a brief moment of psychological anguish. Note that, so far, General Billot was in no way compromised. Newly appointed to his position, he had the authority to bring out the truth. He did not dare, no doubt in terror of public opinion, certainly for fear of implicating the whole General Staff, General de Boisdeffre, and General Gonse, not to mention the subordinates. So he hesitated for a brief moment of struggle between his conscience and what he believed to be the interest of the military. Once that moment passed, it was already too late. He had committed himself and he was compromised. From that point on, his responsibility only grew, he took on the crimes of others, he became as guilty as they, if not more so, for he was in a position to bring about justice and did nothing. Can you understand this: for the last year General Billot, Generals Gonse and de Boisdeffre have known that Dreyfus is innocent, and they have kept this terrible knowledge to themselves?
Day | Duty | Force | Justice | Light | Nothing | Power | Truth | Will |
Emily Brontë, fully Emily Jane Brontë, aka pseudonym Ellis Bell
If he were in my place and I in his, though I hated him with a hatred that became my life to gall, I never would have raised a hand against him... Never would have missed her company, while she wanted. At the moment the affection disappeared, I would have ripped the heart and drank his blood. But until then... would have let me die in pieces before touching a hair on his head.
Emily Brontë, fully Emily Jane Brontë, aka pseudonym Ellis Bell
I get levers and mattocks to demolish the two houses, and train myself to be capable of working like Hercules, and when everything is ready and in my power, I find the will to lift a slate off either roof has vanished! My old enemies have not beaten me - now would be the precise time to revenge myself on their representatives. I could do it, and none could hinder me; but where is the use? I don't care for striking - I can't take the trouble to raise my hand! That sounds as if I had been laboring the whole time only to exhibit a fine trait of magnanimity. It is far from being the case. I have lost the faculty of enjoying their destruction, and I am too idle to destroy for nothing.