Quotes About Stereotypes

Do not ghettoize society by putting people into legal categories of gender, race, ethnicity, language, or other such characteristics.

If you want to live a happy life, don't teach your wife how to drive a car or a motorcycle.

Asian professionals are frequently held back from senior positions by the perception that they don't have "executive presence," a factor that similarly operates against other minority groups in the workplace, including women.39 And what constitutes executive presence? Certainly not modesty:

this is a girl who did drugs, who fucked her high school teacher, who chose Berkeley over Stanford. Maybe she really could be one of us.

This culture is rabid to tell women how much oxygen they can use, space they can take, tables they can join, opinions they are allowed. Code words abound to signal when a woman has stepped too far: hysterical, bitchy, bossy, aggressive. (The man versions of these words are: energetic, strong, decisive, assertive, because "bossy men" are just called "leaders.") Women have always struggled for a credible place at the table.

Women, we care a great deal about being thin and good looking, whereas men mostly care about sex -- ideally with women who are thinner and better looking than they are.

When I first entered the school, I was all set to tie my hair in a ponytail, get a fake tan, and write my homework in pink gel ink. I was prepared to hear girls bragging nonchalantly about the BMWs and diamond earrings they recieved for their birthday. I almost looked forward to hearing the flashlight-wielding nuns tell me to "leave room for the holy ghost" when I danced lewedly with messy-haired prep-school boys

I have been pregnant in so many movies it's ridiculous.

chest—which just showed she knew crap all about Shifters. None of them were nice. "I

Why were all the idioms about being strong male-related?

harlots by the religious fathers in their black robes while the Indian men who refrain from women are called upright and extremely moral! They don't understand that a man is expected to be able to ignore the promptings of his male needs while a woman has the right to satisfy her curiosity about men, even the one she will marry, before she is wedded for life. Our marriages are much happier than those of the French.

Why is it, she wondered now, that boys get to do things and be things and girls only get to watch?

I could solve all the Diophantine equations, extend Newton's work on infinite series, complete Euler's analysis of prime numbers, and it wouldn't matter." She looked at Isabelle. "Ella is the beauty. You and I are the ugly stepsisters. And so the world reduces us, all three of us, to our lowest common denominator.

Airports should all belong to the same country. The country of Crappacia. Or Bleakovania. Or Suckitan.

But an ugly girl? Ah, child, the world is made for men. An ugly girl can never be forgiven.

I was born in Paris. My parents came here from Tunisia when they were kids, but we're still foreigners. Arabs. Africans. Rabble. Scum. We're what's wrong with this country and we always will be.

Men always do that to women when they feel threatened. They tell everybody the woman must be giving out blow jobs because there's no way she could be successful otherwise.

You're not a whore. You're a chick who hasn't exactly grown up with every advantage, and you've learned to use what you've got. You don't do it on purpose. It's second nature. You act girly and helpless and make men think you're harmless.

If I were stepping down from the bus at the rich end of town instead of the trailer park, I wouldn't have to watch every word I said to make sure it wasn't slang for an orgasm.

Boys don't gossip." "Pah! You don't know us as well as you think." This was a disturbing prospect.

Boys don't make passes at girls who wear glasses.

Men said "Girls are weak" when in fact girls made them weak.

He didn't like kids, and parents of kids weren't high on his list, either. It didn't matter how cool you'd been--you had a kid and you were one more sucker spooning goop into an angry little mouth, a guy with pacifiers in his pockets and snot trails on his sleeves and a happy-goofy look Danny could only think was some kind of shock, like those people who sit around cracking jokes after their legs get blown off.

Rich children are always blond, Jocelyn goes. It has to do with vitamins.