Best 249 quotes in «strong women quotes» category

Hello, Bow Street Society, Miss Rebecca Trent, Society clerk speaking.

Here’s to all the strong women out there! Who stand up for themselves and face the world with a heart of soldier. Here’s to all the passionate women out there! Who won’t let the world stop them from achieving their dreams and doing the things they love. Here’s to all the independent women out there! Who have been there for themselves and show that they can. Here’s to all the unbreakable women out there! Who have been knocked down for countless times but they find a way to rise and stand up again. Here’s to all the women in this world You are beautiful, you are worthy, and no one has the power to dim your light ….

Her eyes betrayed no shock at the sights of the quay as they unfolded – not the sweating deckhands, the prostitutes crowding the ship, the hubbub of stalls, including one where three slaves were for sale, their ankles manacled. She might as well have been walking through a country garden as she moved inexorably away from the water.

Her pride is bigger than your ego, Sharper than your ugly words And it has always been there for her to walk as a queen; No matter what her pretty eyes have ever seen …

Her way through life had been winding until now, like an unruly stream stumbling its way over hurdles and bumps, oftentimes trickling into those dark, unexpected cracks. But she was like water. Persistent, versatile, never willing to wait.

He stared at her a moment longer, then laughed softly. “I wouldn’t love you if you were any weaker,” he said, and let go of her.

I ain’t scared to lend a hand I ain’t scared to clench it either

Hunter found the edge of the sink to lean against; watching her mind hunt and wrestle the issue with a strategic defense against the danger to the pack was making it really hard to focus. It was so damned sexy to witness that he could barely breathe.

His mistake was in seeing her as a young girl. She was already a missile, armed and targeted.

How many men have asked you to marry them?' 'Not a lot. Most had too strong an instinct for self-preservation.

I admired so many things about you. Almost everything. But I don’t want to wind up like you. I don’t want to starve to death, all alone on some island inside my own head. Hopeless.

I am the interpretation of the prophet I am the artist in the coffin I am the brave flag stained with blood I am the wounds overcome I am the dream refusing to sleep I am the bare-breasted voice of liberty I am the comic the insult and the laugh I am the right the middle and the left I am the poached eggs in the sky I am the Parisian streets at night I am the dance that swings till dawn I am the grass on the greener lawn I am the respectful neighbour and the graceful man I am the encouraging smile and the helping hand I am the straight back and the lifted chin I am the tender heart and the will to win I am the rainbow in rain I am the human who won’t die in vain I am Athena of Greek mythology I am the religion that praises equality I am the woman of stealth and affection I am the man of value and compassion I am the wild horse ploughing through I am the shoulder to lean onto I am the Muslim the Jew and the Christian I am the Dane the French and the Palestinian I am the straight the square and the round I am the white the black and the brown I am the free speech and the free press I am the freedom to express I will die for my right to be all the above here mentioned And should threat encounter I’ll pull my pencil

If being smart can improve the quality of lives, then choose to be and be smart.” - Auntabelle, Amazon Lee and the Ancient Undead of Rome by Kira G. and Kailin Gow

I am the woman in words Blindfolded by the told Characters were sold. Phrases and signs, music pictures Are only the swords To make the world goes. Emptiness, sadness And happiness are the signature For the stories are unfold. Nostalgic, doubtness Progress in the benefit Freedom of speech for the heiress. I am a woman of words Living in a paradise of language Believes in stories to be told. ~ankieya'13

I believe that women ought to be more proactive about making choices in life. I think that I am not happy about seeing women take the passenger's seat and playing the victim game all too often. If you know a guy is engaged, don't kiss him! There is another woman in the situation whom you are hurting and that other woman could have very well been you, your sister, your mother! If someone is committed, don't sleep with him! There is another woman in the picture that is going to get hurt and that other woman is your sister, just because she is a woman too! This is the kind of proactive I want to see in women, everywhere. We're not victims of the choices that we make; we made those choices! Is another woman doing good? More successful? Happier? Good for her. Because she is your sister and she could very well be you. Let's respect the relationships, the personal paths, the doors and the walkways of our fellow women and let us wish one another the utmost happiness. Because this is the only way up and out.

I'd never known that I could feel this broken and whole at once.

If I’ll ever have a daughter, I’ll teach her that beauty is found in no beauty salons or fitness centers, but that beauty lays in those thoughts she chooses to fill her mind with. I’ll teach her that she was born free and no one has the power to prevent her from her right to choose, to take a stand or even to fly. I’ll teach her that love is no fancy dates or morning texts but that love is all about feeling safe , making effort and respect. I’ll teach her that pride and confidence are the most glorious things she may ever wear. And I will always remind her that she is a queen of her own kingdom, and a queen allow nothing to miss with her crown …

If there is any indication of how an author and her books can affect change, look at the proof of her works on society. And ignore the critics and the trolls. -Strong by Kailin Gow on How Her Indie Success helped motivate and inspired others to become authors and how her books with strong women leads helped the film industry to portray more strong women leads

I hope that your plane crashes over the ocean and piranhas eat your balls. It was lovely meeting you, you self-righteous egoistical son of a bitch. I can see where Joey gets his psychotic behavior.

I had no money to start, For Jack decreed in his pride: The Caveman's wife didn't work - It was his job to provide. A brief reminder right here: Let men believe they are shrewd, But even women of old Embroidered mittens for food.

If you find confident women intimidating, then grow some confidence yourself. - Kailin Gow

If you put a frog into a pot of boiling water, the fucker will jump right back out. It knows it’s wrong, it hurts, it will kill him. But if you put him in a pot and slowly raise it up to boiling, he’ll stay. That’s what abuse is like. You might not even notice it’s happening at first. You’d brush it off as him having a bad day, you pissing him off. But then it starts getting worse in small ways until you’re in so deep and you’re so hot and your skin is peeling and you don’t know if you even remember you can jump anymore. That doesn’t make you weak. You got out of that shit, baby. That makes you stronger, a lot stronger, I think, than you even realize.

I have licked the fire and danced in the ashes of every bridge I ever burned. I fear no hell from you.

I keep flipping these wings no matter how it’s hard for me to fly. As long as they keep on moving, I know someday that they’ll be able to reach out the highest sky. Cause I believe in their strength, In the way I have never given up on them Or on myself at the first place …

I know what this is. I know this is my truth. My past. My present. My future. It is what I knew all along and, like a freaking idiot, ignored because my beautiful illusion was so much better than my tragic reality. For once, I had embraced happiness. Bliss. In spite of finding out what I was, finding out that I was a half Light, half Dark inbreed, I was happy. Even with a damn supernatural assassin out for my blood, I was content. Because of him. He made me whole. A new and improved Gabs. A girl that wanted to be good enough. For him. Fuck. Him.

I'm not... I'm not without a heart,' he heard Sophia say, her chin raised, eyes straight ahead. 'I'm not. I just don't have the luxury of being soft. I am trying to survive.

Imagine what ideas are locked up in the hearts and minds of women who simply lack the tools to express them.

I moved another step forward. "Do you know how much of my blood is soaked into the stone floor of that castle? I'd own the fucking place if blood were coin! I put myself to sleep once by counting the drops as they hit.

I’m not the kind of girl who spends hours getting ready. I don’t blow dry my hair. And I hate make up. I’m not pretty. And I don’t want to be. I am passionate and restless and wild. I’m exhausted by prudent ideologies. I’m not inferior because of my lack of convention. I’m as strong as I am broken. I’m tired of having my sexuality mistaken for an invitation. I will sweat and I will run. I will let the rain come down on me. I want to feel life as I am. I don’t want to skate through having my immoderation controlled by weak judgements. By fear. I don’t want to be who I’m supposed to be, I want to be who I am.

I moved another step forward. "Do you know how much of my blood is soaked into the stone floor of that castle? I'd own the fucking place if blood were coin! I put myself to sleep once by counting the drops as they hit." Kymber Oryx in Silverlight

I may be in pain, but I am not weak.

I moved another step forward. "Do you know how much of my blood is soaked into the stone floor of that castle? I'd own the fucking place if blood were coin! I put myself to sleep once by counting the drops as they hit." Kymber Oryx

I never want to put my whole world in any one person’s hands again, Jason. If they die, I won’t die with them.’ 'So you’ll hold a little of yourself back from everybody.’ 'No,’ I said, 'I’ll hold back a piece of myself for myself. No one gets all of me, Jason, no one, except me.

In a world of flowers grown in pots, I'd like you girls to thrive in the wild.

Instead of dying, instead of slowly disappearing until only a broken body remained, what happened was quite the opposite - my body began to repair itself.

I no longer trusted the sun. I kept half an eye on it, night and day. I told myself that the sun would not go full rogue on us and send a pulse to suck our atmosphere away, but I had a hard time believing it....

In order to be successful as a woman, teach your daughter to never apologize for her success. Men never have to apologize for it, why should the women who earned it? - Raising A Strong Daughter: What Fathers Should Know by Finlay Gow JD and Kailin Gow MA

In the company of women like this - sharp-edged as raw diamonds but with soft hands and hearts, not strong in spite of anything but powerful because of everything - I feel invincible.

In that small town of old women and angry men; They teach girls how to speak in a lower tone How to nod their heads and not dare to say no. They teach them not to walk alone in empty streets. They give them hundreds of rules for how to love, live and even dream. They color their worlds in black and white; so that they couldn’t paint ones in their own. And those who dare to ask questions, to argue, to refuse and change! They have been called hoes, bitches and men wanna be Disobedience; that’s what they call it in my society …..

In writing, a good guy must never break any of the Ten Commandments. A bad guy must break every one. That's why writing female characters is so much fun. They're not GUYS at all.

I shot up out of my chair. “Change of plans. Finish your drink so we can go.” Jay responded flatly, “Go where exactly?” “I’m not sure but we’ll know it when we see it.” He looked at his glass and back to me. “Why bother?” I looked him the eye, seeing pain there and forcing myself not to flinch from it. “Because pity parties suck” I started walking toward the exit and over my shoulder asked “You coming?” He downed the rest of his drink and followed me out the door.

I took control of my life the day I decided to be the one behind the wheel, the day I stopped chasing and started leading the way.

It didn't matter that there was a war on our doorstep. She had things to do, places to be.

I slept that night in the room I used to have when I was a little boy, with the summer wind blowing in at the windows, bringing the smell of the ripe fields. I lay awake and watched the moonlight shining over the barn and the stacks and the pond, and the windmill making its old dark shadow against the blue sky.

I still love... Though you pushed me to the evil edge, Sabotaged my feelings And trashed them into the bin, You taught me to hate, Hatred lives somewhere through the corners of my heart. I believed we existed, But you gunned down all we had. Selfishness ruled you, Because of you, I was a man enough, But you knew it was all just an act, You blinded my vision with a dark cloud, I don't know what I'm doing, You destroyed my way of loving, It's so full of portholes, Wherever I go, I see your thirsty images, They held a grudge, On an innocent soul, It's hard, but... I still love...

It’s just another stop on the curvy road the final encounter for the man who has lived death is the answer.

I’ve given up on many things through my life; One life itself, On people, on love, But never on myself…

It was too familiar to Cody. He placed his arms around his wife trying somehow to shelter her from the reality she was facing. There was another reason for his closeness; his desperation to show her he was not one of them, that the tribes of cruel men did not recognize him as one of their own, and to show his wife that his promise to create a safe place for her was a promise she need not fear would be broken. In the innermost part of him, from the secret child that lives within all men, was a scared cry, “Please don’t think I’m bad too.” From the other innermost part of him, the secret animal that prowls in some men was a raging wolf ready to kill. The battle line within the man had been drawn. The boundaries of faith rose up around the rage, warning the soul against righteous anger morphing to blood lust.

It's not my words that you should fear, but my silence. My words speak straight to the core but my absence will leave you speechless.

It’s preposterous, expecting a man to unburden himself to a woman,” Bennett Winchester slurred as the mantel clock chimed. Though it was midmorning the Bow Street Society’s parlour had neither daylight nor gaslight to soften the retired captain’s pointed profile. Bloodshot, brown eyes looked beyond the wall as he approached, turned, and retraced his route, each thump of his boot succeeded by the heavy thud of his peg-leg. Miss Trent’s gaze tracked him during each pass of her armchair yet she remained seated. “Captain Winchester,” she began, “you weren’t obligated to come here and I wasn’t obligated to receive you, yet here we are. Putting aside my disinclination to beg your pardon for my gender, I instead ask you to observe your surroundings. You and I are the only ones here. Therefore, your choice is clear—either swallow your masculine pride and tell me why you’re here, or leave and put your trust in those at Bow Street Police Station.” “Don’t speak such impertinence to me!” Captain Winchester barked, drawing Miss Trent to her feet. She countered, “I shall speak whatever I want, Captain, when you are in my domain.” His lips repeatedly furled and unfurled against gritted teeth while calloused hands, which had previously rested within his greatcoat’s deep pockets, balled at his sides. Starting at his neck, his already pink face steadily flushed as if port had spilt under his skin. He snarled, “How daare you, you uncouth wretch.” “Continue as you are, Captain Winchester, and I will be calling upon the officers at Bow Street,” Miss Trent promised despite his stale-rum-drenched breath turning her stomach. Whether it was the tone of her voice, her fixed gaze, the words themselves, or a combination of all three which cooled Bennett Winchester’s rage was unclear. Regardless the result was the same. After some aggressive chewing of his anger, the captain plonked himself in the vacant armchair. The clerk wasn’t naïve enough to think it ended, however. Instead, she enabled additional calming time by fetching tea from the kitchen. Coffee would’ve been more sobering for him but, alas, she suspected such a blatant assumption wouldn’t have been welcomed by his volatile temper. In due course Captain Winchester’s pallid complexion had returned and his hands had come to rest upon his thighs. She poured the amber liquid in silence and he accepted the cup without remark. “I must beg your pardon for my brutishness, Miss Trent,” he muttered against the steam rising from his cup.