"rape"タグの名言

What had human beings become? Did war make us evil or just activate an evil already lurking within us?

You save yourself or you remain unsaved.

Heaven is comfort, but it's still not living.

We are supposed to call poison medicine and we wonder why we're always sick.

But no matter how much evil I see, I think it’s important for everyone to understand that there is much more light than darkness.

No amount of me trying to explain myself was doing any good. I didn't even know what was going on inside of me, so how could I have explained it to them?

Today I wore a pair of faded old jeans and a plain grey baggy shirt. I hadn't even taken a shower, and I did not put on an ounce of makeup. I grabbed a worn out black oversized jacket to cover myself with even though it is warm outside. I have made conscious decisions lately to look like less of what I felt a male would want to see. I want to disappear.

People often speak of hell, not wanting to go there, avoiding it..etc. I never had that problem because hell is a state of mind. Look around you; rape, murder, wars, hatred, envy...my friend; you're already there!!

come back so i can say yes this time do it again now that i know what to call what you did this time i'll be ready i like it rough now and i'm done with romance i never met another man who loved me so much at first sight he had to hurt me to do it

Most men fear getting laughed at or humiliated by a romantic prospect while most women fear rape and death.

No, Sky. You didn't tell her everything…you told you everything. Those things happened to you, not to someone else. They happened to Hope. They happened to Sky. They happened to the best friend that I loved all those years ago, and they happened to the best friend I love who’s looking back at me right now.

Ma qualcuno potrebbe chiedermi: dove si trovava l'angelo custode di Tess? Esisteva una provvidenza che tutelasse la sua ingenua fiducia? Forse, come quell'altra divinità di cui parlava l'ironico Tisbita, stava chiacchierando, o era inseguito, o era in viaggio o forse, stava dormendo e non si era svegliato. Perché su questo bel tessuto femminile, sensibile come una sottile ragnatela e sino ad allora immacolato come la neve veniva tracciato un disegno così rozzo come quello che era destinato a ricevere? Perché così di sovente ciò che è rozzo s'impossessa di ciò che è più delicato: l'uomo sbagliato, di una donna, la donna sbagliata, di un uomo? Migliaia d'anni di filosofia analitica non sono riusciti a spiegarlo al nostro concetto di ordine. Si potrebbe infatti ammettere la possibilità di una vendetta nascosta nella attuale catastrofe; senza dubbio qualche antenato di Tess d'Urberville, in cotta di maglia, tornando a casa eccitato da una rissa aveva usato lo stesso metro, ancor più spietato forse, verso le contadine del suo tempo. Ma, se far ricadere i peccati dei padri sui figli possa essere una morale abbastanza valida per i teologi, questa viene rifiutata dalla comune natura umana; e quindi non servirebbe a migliorare la situazione. La gente come Tess, in quei luoghi sperduti, non si stanca mai di ripetere col tono fatalistico che le è proprio: Doveva accadere.

She looked at her hand: Just some hand, holding a cheap pen. Some girls’ hand. She had nothing to do with that hand. Let that hand do whatever it wanted to.

Don't plant a seed just a day before you need the fruit. ~ Aarush Kashyap

Women are secretive about the bad things that happen in their lives and that’s what kills the society. They always want to be seen good, successful and happy.

War can condition a person to be resilient, tolerant, dependable, strong, and capable of so much more than one who had experienced nothing of it; it can bring out the very best in us, but also the very worst. Where is it, I ask, the proper conduit through which a soldier should be raised from whence they would become an upstanding citizen of the world, instead of a single country?

Making someone feel obligated, pressured or forced into doing something of a sexual nature that they don't want to is sexual coercion. This includes persistent attempts at sexual contact when the person has already refused you. Nobody owes you sex, ever; and no means no, always.

A while ago?” Anaxantis asked. “Yes, he raped me a while ago. Exactly nine months and two days ago. What's that? Nine months or nine minutes. It's the same. And it is in the past, you say? Then why is it still happening, every day, every time I close my eyes? Every time I hear someone behind me, and I don't know who it is? How is it that I get an almost irresistible urge to kill anyone who happens to touch me unexpectedly? Tell me, Hemarchidas, how do I forgive, let alone forget, something that is still happening, that keeps happening over and over? How? How do I do that?