欧宝娱乐

“As far as I was concerned men were something you had around the place, not particularly interesting, but quite harmless. I had never shown the slightest feeling for them, and apart from my never wearing a skirt, saw nothing else in common between us.”
― Jeanette Winterson, Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit

“I saw a spider-I didn't scream 'cause I can belch the alphabet-Just double dog dare me! And I chose guitar over ballet and I take these suckers down 'cause they just get in my way. Then you look at me kinda like a little sister-You high five your goodbyes and it leaves me nothing but blisters- I don't want to be one of the boys, one of your guys-Just give me a chance to prove to you tonight that I just wanna be one of the girls, pretty in pearls and not one of the boys...”
― Katy Perry

“I was lucky that my mom never did that boy/girl toys thing. If I wanted it, she would get it for me.”
― Cassie Brode

“A tomboy is a bisexual girl鈥檚 dream lover.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana

“Could my problem have been that I was looking for validation in the wrong places all along?”
― Liz Prince, Tomboy: A Graphic Memoir

“Ned looked down gravely at the sword in his hands. 鈥淭his is no toy for children, least of all for a girl. What would Septa Mordane say if she knew you were playing with swords?鈥�

鈥淚 wasn鈥檛 playing,鈥� Arya insisted. 鈥淚 hate Septa Mordane.鈥�

鈥淭hat鈥檚 enough.鈥� Her father鈥檚 voice was curt and hard. 鈥淭he septa is doing no more than is her duty, though gods know you have made it a struggle for the poor woman. Your mother and I have charged her with the impossible task of making you a lady.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones

“As presumptive heir to one of the largest Duchies in the Kingdom of the Mists, she could have easily grown up more spoiled than any human princess. Instead she grew into the sort of little girl who's always up a tree or down a hole, a magnet for mud, queen of worms and frogs and crawling things.”
― Seanan McGuire, Rosemary and Rue

“I turn my face and force the corners of my mouth up. There may even be a bit if eyelash fluttering going on. He just rolls his dark blue eyes at me, obviously not impressed鈥攐r maybe I just look like I have something stuck in my eye. Sometimes it would be nice to make use of some feminine wiles. I sigh and drop my shoulders. "Out."

"You're going to have to do better than that. You know I'm not supposed to let you out without an escort."

"Please. I can't breathe in here." I step forward, stare up into his face, and lower my voice. "Do you know Emily wanted me to come to sewing circle this morning? Can you even imagine?"

Flint's mouth rounds up into a smile and he coughs to cover his chuckle. "No, Jax. I can't possibly imagine you doing anything remotely feminine.”
― Theresa Kay, Broken Skies

“Cross-gender behaviour is seen as less acceptable in boys than it is in girls: unlike the term 鈥榯omboy鈥� there is nothing positive implied by its male counterpart, the 鈥榮issy鈥�.”
― Cordelia Fine, Delusions of Gender: How Our Minds, Society, and Neurosexism Create Difference

“You don鈥檛 have to look a certain way to be a tomboy. Don鈥檛 let anyone tell you that, ever, and please don鈥檛 find that here in my words. Tomboy thrums in your heart. It鈥檚 in your head. It鈥檚 what is holding your spine in place. It can鈥檛 be hidden by a haircut. It鈥檚 not about nail polish or not. It鈥檚 running right now in your veins. If it is in you, you already know. Tomboy blood is so much bigger than the outside of you.”
― Ivan E. Coyote

“She'd grown up with few friends. She'd played with the neighborhood boys, chasing pigeons and catching fireflies with them until it was no longer considered proper. By then, the girls in the village scorned her. In front of her mother and father, they pretended to be polite, but Mulan knew what they said about her behind her back.
Ill-bred and ill-mannered.
She has the temper of a firecracker and the grace of a bull.
It's a miracle she even looks like a girl- look at the hay in her hair, and the dirt on her face. What a discredit to her mother!
The insults had never bothered Mulan too much. Back then, her mother comforted her by telling her to ignore what people said, and talking to her father would always make her feel better. And she'd had Khan for company... then, later, Mushu and Cri-Kee.”
― Elizabeth Lim, Reflection

“The hardest thing about being a woman isn鈥檛 menstruation or giving birth. It鈥檚 resisting the pressure to love handbags, makeup, high heels 鈥� and men.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana, F for Philosopher: A Collection of Funny Yet Profound Aphorisms

“I was lucky that my mom never did that boy/girl toys thing. If I wanted it, she would get it for me.”
― Ladiikeiii

“Although Lasaraleen had said she was dying to hear Aravis's story, she showed no sign of really wanting to hear it at all. She was, in fact, much better at talking than at listening. She insisted on Aravis having a long and luxurious bath (Calormene baths are famous) and then dressing her up in the finest clothes before she would let her explain anything. The fuss she made about choosing the dresses nearly drove Aravis mad. She remembered now that Lasaraleen had always been like that, interested in clothes and parties and gossip. Aravis had always been more interested in bows and arrows and horses and dogs and swimming. You will guess that each thought the other silly. But when at last they were both seated after a meal (it was chiefly of the whipped cream and jelly and fruit and ice sort) in a beautiful pillared room (which Aravis would have liked better if Lasaraleen's spoiled pet monkey hadn't been climbing about it all the time) Lasaraleen at last asked her why she was running away from home.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Horse and His Boy

“I may eventually wear high heels because I choose to, not because you made me.”
― Joyce Rachelle

“When they were children at Loeanneth they'd spent the summer in and out of the water, their skin turning brown beneath the sun, their hair bleaching almost white. Despite her weak chest, Clemmie had been the most outdoorsy of them all, with her long, skinny foal's legs and windblown nature. She should have been born later. She should have been born now. There were so many opportunities these days for girls like Clemmie. Alice saw them everywhere, spirited, independent, forthright, and focused. Mighty girls unbounded by society's expectations. They made her glad, those girls, with their nose rings and their short hair and their impatience with the world. Sometimes Alice felt she could almost glimpse her sister's spirit moving in them.
Clemmie had refused to speak to anyone in the months after Theo disappeared. Once the police had done their interviews, she'd shut her mouth, tight as a clam, and behaved as if her ears had switched off too. She'd always been eccentric, but it seemed to Alice, looking back, that during the late summer of 1933 she became downright wild. She hardly returned home, prowling around the airfields, slicing at the reeds by the stream with a sharpened stick, creeping inside the house only to sleep, and not even that most nights. Camping out in the woods or by the stream. God only knew what she ate. Birds' eggs, probably. Clemmie had always had a gift for raiding nests.”
― Kate Morton

“Clary had demanded that Simon accompany her to her bridesmaid's dress fitting so afterwards they could shop for comics and she can feel, in her words, like "less of a frilled-up girly-girl.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Fallen Angels

“But she was as wiry as any boy, and it had caused quite an uproar when Tessina first flexed her arm and a little muscle popped up, hard as a walnut, while us boys could hardly produce anything.
But she never looked like a boy. A mass of curls, the color of August straw, made a halo around her head, tight and springy, as if a goldsmith had put them there. Her skin was pale like the flesh of hazelnuts, dusted with little freckles, except when she stayed too long in the summer sun and it burned. Like a peach, her arms were covered in fine golden down, which also clung, fainter than faint, to her upper lip.”
― Philip Kazan, Appetite

“She started to head out, but she passed her room. It was the same as she'd left it: a pile of cushions by her bed for Little Brother to sleep on, a stack of poetry and famous literature on her desk that she was supposed to study to become a "model bride," and the lavender shawl and silk robes she'd worn the day before she left home. The jade comb Mulan had left in exchange for the conscription notice caught her eye; it now rested in front of her mirror.
Mulan's gaze lingered on the comb, on its green teeth and the pearl-colored flower nestled on its shoulder. She wanted to hold it, to put it in her hair and show her family- to show everyone- she was worthy. After all, her surname, Fa, meant flower. She needed to show them that she had bloomed to be worthy of her family name.
But no one was here, and she didn't want to face her reflection. Who knew what it would show, especially in Diyu?
She isn't a boy, her mother had told her father once. She shouldn't be riding horses and letting her hair loose. The neighbors will talk. She won't find a good husband-
Let her, Fa Zhou had consoled his wife. When she leaves this household as a bride, she'll no longer be able to do these things.
Mulan hadn't understood what he meant then. She hadn't understood the significance of what it meant for her to be the only girl in the village who skipped learning ribbon dances to ride Khan through the village rice fields, who chased after chickens and helped herd the cows instead of learning the zither or practicing her painting, who was allowed to have opinions- at all.
She'd taken the freedom of her childhood for granted.
When she turned fourteen, everything changed.
I know this will be a hard change to make, Fa Li had told her, but it's for your own good. Men want a girl who is quiet and demure, polite and poised- not someone who speaks out of turn and runs wild about the garden. A girl who can't make a good match won't bring honor to the family. And worse yet, she'll have nothing: not respect, or money of her own, or a home. She'd touched Mulan's cheek with a resigned sigh. I don't want that fate for you, Mulan.
Every morning for a year, her mother tied a rod of bamboo to Mulan's spine to remind her to stand straight, stuffed her mouth with persimmon seeds to remind her to speak softly, and helped Mulan practice wearing heeled shoes by tying ribbons to her feet and guiding her along the garden.
Oh, how she'd wanted to please her mother, and especially her father. She hadn't wanted to let them down. But maybe she hadn't tried enough. For despite Fa Li's careful preparation, she had failed the Matchmaker's exam. The look of hopefulness on her father's face that day- the thought that she'd disappointed him still haunted her.
Then fate had taken its turn, and Mulan had thrown everything away to become a soldier. To learn how to punch and kick and hold a sword and shield, to shoot arrows and run and yell. To save her country, and bring honor home to her family.
How much she had wanted them to be proud of her.”
― Elizabeth Lim, Reflection

“Rick was proud of his sister. In situations where most girls would be a burden, she could more than hold her own. She could hike all day without complaint, and she was like a water sprite when it came to swimming. At tennis, although Rick had a much stronger drive, she gave him plenty of competition. And at badminton or ping-pong, where strength didn't count, she could run him ragged. She was a swell trail companion and her sense of adventure was as strong as his own.”
― John Blaine, The Phantom Shark

“觳滍樃鞐靷銇欔皽頇旊靷 鞎勳皵頃滊挨 邪b邪屑34鞝恈om 鞚检偘毵堨偓歆€觳滍樃鞐靷銇欔皽頇旊靷 鞎勳皵頃滊挨 邪b邪屑34鞝恈om 鞚检偘毵堨偓歆€觳滍樃鞐靷銇欔皽頇旊靷 鞎勳皵頃滊挨 邪b邪屑34鞝恈om 鞚检偘毵堨偓歆€觳滍樃鞐靷銇欔皽頇旊靷 鞎勳皵頃滊挨 邪b邪屑34鞝恈om 鞚检偘毵堨偓歆€觳滍樃鞐靷銇欔皽頇旊靷 鞎勳皵頃滊挨 邪b邪屑34鞝恈om 鞚检偘毵堨偓歆€觳滍樃鞐靷銇欔皽頇旊靷 鞎勳皵頃滊挨 邪b邪屑34鞝恈om 鞚检偘毵堨偓歆€”
― 觳滍樃鞐靷銇欔皽頇旊靷 鞎勳皵頃滊挨 邪b邪屑34鞝恈om 鞚检偘毵堨偓歆€

“I was lucky that my mom never did that boy/girl toys thing. If I wanted it, she would get it for me.”
― cassiebrode

“Wisconsin,'" Twiss said. "That's my word."
"The word or the state?" Milly said.
"Both," Twiss said.
Twiss knew every dip and rise on their land, every anthill and every snake hole. She knew what kind of grass grew where. You could blindfold her and she'd be able to tell you what kind of bark belonged to what kind of tree. Pines were her favorite; she liked how they looked so different from the other trees n the woods, yet relied on the same underground springs to stay alive. Instead of a cotton-filled pillow like the rest of the family slept on, Twiss slept on a pillow stuffed with pine needles. She envied the birds that lived in the actual trees.”
― Rebecca Rasmussen, The Bird Sisters

“I was well on the way to tacking together a sort of nature religion to make up fro Grandpa's defection, an apotheosis of the back of beyond, in which I was just another thinking thing, neuter, drab, camouflaged. There'd be sermons in stones, and books to read in the haybarn, for ever and ever. Amen.”
― Lorna Sage, Bad Blood

“He was fascinated by Beatrix's competence at things women were not usually competent at. She knew how to use a hammer or a plane tool. She rode better than any woman he had ever seen, and possibly better than any man. She had an original mind, an intelligence woven of recall and intuition. But the more Christopher learned about Beatrix, the more he perceived the vein of insecurity that ran deep in her. A sense of otherness that often inclined her toward solitude. He thought that perhaps it had something to do with her parents' untimely deaths, especially her mother's, which Beatrix had felt as an abandonment. And perhaps it was partly a result of the Hathaways' having been pushed into a social position they had never been prepared for. Being in the upper classes wasn't merely following a set of rules, it was a way of thinking, of carrying oneself and interacting with the world, that had to be instilled since birth. Beatrix would never acquire the sophistication of the young women who had been raised in the aristocracy.
That was one of the things he loved most about her.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Love in the Afternoon

“I occasionally try my luck at dry-fly casting on a Hampshire chalk stream." The earl glanced at Merritt and smiled reminiscently. "My daughter has accompanied me a time or two. She has excellent aptitude but little interest."
"I lose patience with the fish," Merritt said. "They take too long to make up their minds. I prefer going shooting with you-- it takes far less effort."
"Are you a good shot?" Keir asked.
"I'm not bad," she said modestly.
"She's the best shot in the family," Lillian said. "It drives her brothers mad.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“She stopped in Eckerds to flirt with a guy she knew there and get some free Blow Pops. She leaned over the counter and pursed her lips and moved up and down on her toes while he dug out all the watermelons, her favorite. There was a scale with a mirror next to the pharmacy counter, and she stared at herself sideways. With her low-slung jeans and junk store green army coat, Murphy looked high-fidelity, full-color, and healthy. The counter boy鈥檚 voice pitched high when he asked her, nervous and awed, if she wanted anything else. Murphy smiled and stuck a Blow Pop in her mouth as she turned and sauntered out the door.”
― Jodi Lynn Anderson, The Secrets of Peaches

“It has been found that so called tomboy behavior in girls correlated closely with higher levels of testosterone. On the other side, low testosterone levels in males result in unassertive and 鈥榝eminine鈥� behavior, whereas the highest levels of testosterone to which men are exposed during adolescence result in extra aggressiveness.”
― Azar Gat, War in Human Civilization

“I will not be forced to marry!" Merida yelled.
She drew a claymore from the display stand, not because she thought she needed the long sword for protection, but because she felt more at peace with its heavy weight in her hand. Her mother had never understood her. She wanted Merida to be like her, a prim and proper royal lady. But Merida had never felt drawn to that life. She wanted to be free.
She relished the feel of the wind in her hair as she raced her horse across the glen. Delighted in the exhilaration of hitting a target from fifty paces away with her bow and arrow, or tumbling in the dirt with her three brothers.
She was her father's lass, not her mother's proper princess.”
― Farrah Rochon, Fate Be Changed

“I will not be forced to marry!" Merida yelled.
She drew a claymore from the display stand, not because she thought she needed the long sword for protection, but because she felt more at peace with its heavy weight in her hand. Her mother had never understood her. She wanted Merida to be like her, a prim and proper royal lady. But Merida had never felt drawn to that life. She wanted to be free.
She relished the feel of the wind in her hair as she raced her horse across the glen. Delighted in the exhilaration of hitting a target from fifty paces away with her bow and arrow, or tumbling in the dirt with her three brothers.
She was her father's fierce lass, not her mother's proper princess.”
― Farrah Rochon, Fate Be Changed