In every loving woman there is a priestess of the past - a pious guardian of some affection, of which the object has disappeared.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
In antiquity, a woman might be an object of worship or desire, but never of love.
I have worshipped woman as the living embodiment of the spirit of service and sacrifice.
Woman was always the custodian of human sentiment, morality and honour, and in these respects, man always has yielded woman the palm.
Two thousand years ago, we lived in a world of Gods and Goddesses. Today, we live in a world solely of Gods. Women in most cultures have been stripped of their spiritual power.
Woman is a ray of God. She is not that earthly beloved: she is creative, not created.
The old, subjective, stagnant, indolent and wretched life for woman has gone. She has as many resources as men, as many activities beckon her on. As large possibilities swell and inspire her heart.
Most women I know are priestesses and healers... We are, all of us, sisters of a mysterious order.
That one woman is capable of loving another is an historical truth; but never yet lived one who could not listen to her own praises at the expense of her adored friend.
History, whether sacred or profane, hides her teaching from those who study her through coloured glasses. She only reveals truth to those who look through the cold clear medium of passionless inquiry, who seek the Truth without determining first the masquerade in which alone they will receive it.
From the cradle to the grave she is subject to the power and control of man. Father, guardian, or husband, one conveys her like some piece of merchandise over to the other.