Eleanor Marx-Aveling

She wished at the same time to die and to live in Paris.

Il­lus­tri­ous

A man, at least, is free; he may travel over pas­sions and over coun­tries, over­come obstacles, taste of the most faraway pleas­ures. But a wo­man is al­ways hampered. At once in­ert and flex­ible, she has against her the weak­ness of the flesh and legal de­pend­ence. Her will, like the veil of her bon­net, held by a string, flut­ters in every wind; there is al­ways some de­sire that draws her, some con­ven­tion­al­ity that re­strains.