The despondency that follows makes me feel somewhat like a shipwrecked man who spies a sail, sees himself saved, and suddenly remembers that the lens of his spyglass has a flaw, a blurred spot -- the sail he has seen.
Jean GenetRead
She was happy, and perfectly in line with the tradition of those women they used to call "ruined," "fallen," feckless, bitches in heat, ravished dolls, sweet sluts, instant princesses, hot numbers, great lays, succulent morsels, everybody's darlings . . .
Interpretation
This quote explores the complex emotions and societal perceptions surrounding women who embrace their sexuality.
In this quote by Jean Genet, the author reflects on the dichotomy of happiness and societal judgment faced by women labeled as 'ruined' or 'fallen' for their sexual choices. Through the use of provocative language, Genet challenges the derogatory terms often used to describe these women, suggesting a rebellion against societal norms while celebrating their freedom and desire.
In practice
In a discussion about female empowerment and self-acceptance.
The despondency that follows makes me feel somewhat like a shipwrecked man who spies a sail, sees himself saved, and suddenly remembers that the lens of his spyglass has a flaw, a blurred spot -- the sail he has seen.
Erotic play discloses a nameless world which is revealed by the nocturnal language of lovers. Such language is not written down. It is whispered into the ear at night in a hoarse voice. At dawn it is forgotten.
I'm homosexual. How and why are idle questions. It's a little like wanting to know why my eyes are green.
I wanted to swallow myself by opening my mouth very wide and turning it over my head so that it would take in my whole body, and then the Universe, until all that would remain of me would be a ball of eaten thing which little by little would be annihilated: that is how I see the end of the world.
I decided to be what crime made of me.
It's a true image, born of a false spectacle.
Love is never any better than the lover.
Its a beautiful woman's fate to be the subject of conversation where ever she goes
I can't give you the moon,β the tinker said. βShe doesn't belong to me. She belongs only to herself.
That best portion of a man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.
A glooming peace this morning with it brings; The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
Love in marriage should be the accomplishment of a beautiful dream, and not, as it too often is, the end.
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