A Quote by Benjamin N. Cardozo

Justice is not to be taken by storm. She is to be wooed by slow advances. — © Benjamin N. Cardozo
Justice is not to be taken by storm. She is to be wooed by slow advances.
Justice is not to be taken by storm. She is to be wooed by slow advances. Substitute statute for decision, and you shift the center of authority, but add no quota of inspired wisdom.
For they both were solitary, She on earth and he is heaven. And he wooed her with caressed, Wooed her with his smile of sunshine -Song of Hiawatha, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A woman is never so happy as when she is being wooed. Then she is mistress of all she surveys, the cynosure of all eyes, until that day of days when she sails down the aisle, a vision in white, lovely as the stefanotis she carries, borne translucent on her father's manly arm to be handed over to her new father-surrogate. If she is clever, and if her husband has the time and the resources, she will insist on being wooed all her life; more likely she will discover that marriage is not romantic, that husbands forget birthdays and aniversaries and seldom pay compliments, are often perfunctory.
Fortune has something of the nature of a woman. If she is too intensely wooed, she commonly goes the further away.
She was trying to sound tough and impatient, but she knew that vulnerable desire to be wooed was still brimming in her tone.
That conceit, elegantly expressed by the Emperor Charles V., in his instructions to the King, his son, "that fortune hath somewhat the nature of a woman, that if she be too much wooed she is the farther off.
It is assumed that the woman must wait, motionless, until she is wooed. That is how the spider waits for the fly.
She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; She is a woman, therefore to be won.
Well, she's not responding to my advances," he observed more brightly than he felt, "so she must be dead." "Or she's a woman of good taste and sense.
She was struggling, as she always had struggled, not to show what she could do but to hide what she couldn't do. A life made up of advances that were actually frantic retreats and victories that were concealed defeats.
All of the things that Hillary Clinton was talking about could have been taken care of during the last 10 years, let's say, while she had great power. But they weren't taken care of. And if she ever wins this race, they won't be taken care of.
Hannah Storm in a horrifying, horrifying outfit today. She's got on red go-go boots and a catholic school plaid skirt ... way too short for somebody in her 40s or maybe early 50s by now...She's got on her typically very, very tight shirt. She looks like she has sausage casing wrapping around her upper body ... I know she's very good, and I'm not supposed to be critical of ESPN people, so I won't ... but Hannah Storm ... come on now! Stop! What are you doing? ... She's what I would call a Holden Caulfield fantasy at this point.
She was the storm, she was the lightning, she was the adult world with all its power and all its secrets and all its foolish casual cruelty.
what I love is slowness. Slow people, slow reading, slow traveling, slow eggs, and slow love. Everything good comes slow.
And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.
The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask It's hard to see the pain behind the mask Bearing the burden of a secret storm Sometimes she wishes she was never born
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