The angel of the Family is Woman. Mother, wife, or sister, Woman is the caress of life, the soothing sweetness read more

The angel of the Family is Woman. Mother, wife, or sister, Woman is the caress of life, the soothing sweetness of affection shed over its toils, a reflection for the individual of the loving providence which watches over Humanity. In her there is treasure enough of consoling tenderness to allay every pain. Moreover for every one of us she is the initiator of the future. The mother's first kiss teaches the child love; the first holy kiss of the woman he loves teaches man hope and faith in life; and love and faith create a desire for perfection and the power of reaching towards it step by step; create the future, in short, of which the living symbol is the child, link between us and the generations to come. Through her the Family, with its divine mystery of reproduction, points to Eternity.

What I've learned is you treat women right.

What I've learned is you treat women right.

Women may fall when there's no strength in men.

Women may fall when there's no strength in men.

It is little men know of women; their smiles and their tears alike are seldom what they seem.

It is little men know of women; their smiles and their tears alike are seldom what they seem.

Look for the woman in the dress. If there is no woman, there is no dress.

Look for the woman in the dress. If there is no woman, there is no dress.

Why can't all different types of women be considered beautiful? Why can't we can't we all be considered possible love read more

Why can't all different types of women be considered beautiful? Why can't we can't we all be considered possible love interests?

Without vanity, without coquetry, without curiosity, in a word, without the fall, woman would not be woman. Much of her read more

Without vanity, without coquetry, without curiosity, in a word, without the fall, woman would not be woman. Much of her grace is in her frailty.

Smart women love smart men more than smart men love smart women.

Smart women love smart men more than smart men love smart women.

It was cold, and he was coughing. A fine cold draught blew over the knoll. He thought of the woman. read more

It was cold, and he was coughing. A fine cold draught blew over the knoll. He thought of the woman. Now he would have given all he had or ever might have to hold her warm in his arms, both of them wrapped in one blanket, and sleep. All hopes of eternity and all gain from the past he would have given to have her there, to be wrapped warm with him in one blanket, and sleep, only sleep. It seemed the sleep with the woman in his arms was the only necessity.