— Mary Wollstonecraft, A Vindication of the Rights of Women (via classiestofbroads)
— Happy birthday, Mary Wollstonecraft! (via evelyn-carnahan)
— Mary Wollstonecraft - A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (via megthemountain)
— Mary Wollstonecraft (via illsignyourcast)
— Mary Wollstonecraft - A Short Residence in Sweden
What were the outrages of a day to these continual miseries? Let those sorrows hide their diminished head before the tremendous mountain of woe that thus defaces our globe! Man preys on man; and you mourn for the idle tapestry that decorated a gothic pile, and the dronish bell that summoned the fat priest to prayer. You mourn for the empty pageant of a name, when slavery flaps her wing, and the sick heart retires to die in lonely wilds, far from the abodes of men. Did the pangs you felt for insulted nobility, the anguish that rent your heart when the gorgeous robes were torn off the idol human weakness had set up, deserve to be compared with the long-drawn sigh of melancholy reflection, when misery and vice are thus seen to haunt our steps, and swim on the top of every cheering prospect? Why is our fancy to be appalled by terrific perspectives of a hell beyond the grave?–Hell stalks abroad;–the lash resounds on the slave’s naked sides; and the sick wretch, who can no longer earn the sour bread of unremitting labour, steals to a ditch to bid the world a long good night–or, neglected in some ostentatious hospital, breathes his last amidst the laugh of mercenary attendants.
Such misery demands more than tears–I pause to recollect myself; and smother the contempt I feel rising for your rhetorical flourishes and infantine sensibility."
Mary Wollstonecraft, A Vindication of the Rights of Man, bashing Edmund Burke for feeling more sorrow for poor Marie Antoinette than all those oppressed Frenchmen.
Oh God, Mary Wollstonecraft was just so frickin’ brilliant and inspiring.
— Mary Wollstonecraft (via caseydeann)
I would have liked to have dined with you today, after finishing your essay - that my eyes, and lips, I do not exactly mean my voice, might have told you that they had raised you in my esteem. What a cold word! I would say love, if you will promise not to dispute about its propriety, when I want to express an increasing affection, founded on a more intimate acquaintance with your heart and understanding.
I shall cork up all my kindness - yet the fine volatile essence may fly off in my walk - you know not how much tenderness for you may escape in a voluptuous sigh, should the air, as is often the case, give a pleasurable movement to the sensations, that have been clustering round my heart, as I read this morning - reminding myself, every now and then, that the writer loved me.
Voluptuous is often expressive of a meaning I do not now intend to give, I would describe one of those moments, when the senses are exactly tuned by the ringing tenderness of the heart and according reason entices you to live in the present moment, regardless of the past or future - it is not rapture - it is sublime tranquility.
I have felt it in your arms - hush! Let not the light see, I was going to say hear it - these confessions should only be uttered - you know where, when the curtains are up - and all the world shut out - Ah me!
I wish I may find you at home when I carry this letter to drop it in the box, - that I may drop a kiss with it into your heart, to be embalmed, till me meet, closer."
— Mary Wollstonecraft, Anglo-Irish feminist and writer, to William Godwin, philosopher and writer. (October 4, 1796)
— Mary Wollstonecraft, A Vindication of the Rights of Women (1792)
— Mary Wollstonecraft (via glasswalrus)
Mary Wollstonecraft (via riverscollide)
— MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT, A VINDICATION OF THE RIGHTS OF WOMEN (via easyspeakeasy)