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Her speech was reported by the London Times as follows.
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Her and speech
Her best-known extemporaneous speech on gender inequalities, Ain't I a Woman ?, was delivered in 1851 at the Ohio Women's Rights Convention in Akron, Ohio.
American Equal Rights Association — May 9 – 10, 1867: Her speech was addressed to the American Equal Rights Association, and divided into three sessions.
In a speech on the subject of confederation, made in 1866 to the Legislative Assembly of the Province of Canada, John A. Macdonald said of the planned governor: " We place no restriction on Her Majesty's prerogative in the selection of her representative ...
In New Zealand, judges of the High Court and above are referred to as " His / Her Honour Justice Surname " in speech, and " Surname J " in writing.
Judges of the District Court and the other statutory courts are referred to as " His / Her Honour Judge Surname " in speech, and " Surname DCJ " or " Judge Surname " in writing.
Her spelling and punctuation were unconventional and she lacked the formal manner and speech which had characterised her Habsburg predecessors.
Her increasing fear of Catholics led her to make a speech regarding her belief that a Catholic conspiracy was subverting the foreign office.
Her letters indicate that she had taken on Tyneside speech and become deeply concerned with the people around her.
Her lyrics are composed of short fragments of simple speech that do not form a logical coherent pattern.
Her speech as Delight in Endless Nights takes the same form, with somewhat orderly lettering and a faint rainbow background.
Her main complaint about her bashfulness is that it affected her speech and behaviour so that she seemed constrained.
Her wickedly vampish appearance is offset by her comical character, quirky and quick-witted personality, and Valley girl-type speech.
Her 1915 speech on pacifism at Carnegie Hall received negative coverage by newspapers such as the New York Times, which branded her as unpatriotic.
Her essay, " Enfranchisement of Women ," appeared in the Westminster Review in 1851 in response to a speech by Lucy Stone given at the first National Women's Rights Convention in Worcester, Massachusetts in 1850, and it was reprinted in the United States.
Her speech consists of the sounds of a tinkling bell, which is understandable only to those familiar with the language of the fairies.
Thereafter, the Speaker symbolically requests " in the name and on behalf of the Commons of the United Kingdom, to lay claim, by humble petition to Her Majesty, to all their ancient and undoubted rights and privileges, especially to freedom of speech in debate, to freedom from arrest, and to free access to Her Majesty whenever occasion shall require.
Her father Marcus received the nickname Bambalio, from the Latin to stutter, because of his hesitancy in speech.
Her and was
Her face was very thin, and burned by the sun until much of the skin was dead and peeling, the new skin under it red and angry.
Her blond hair was frowzy, her dress torn in several places, and her shoes were so completely worn out that they were practically no protection.
Her form was silhouetted and with the strong light I could see the outlines of her body, a body that an artist or anyone else would have admired.
Her heart, her maternal feeling, in fact her being was too busy expressing itself, as quietly thrilled by this sight of her Nicolas curled asleep under a blanket, in a park like a scene from Poussin.
Her stern was down and a sharp list helped us to cut loose the lifeboat which dropped heavily into the water.
( Her account was later confirmed by the Scobee-Frazier Expedition from the University of Manitoba in 1951.
Her brother Karl was a very gentle soul, her mother was a quiet woman who said little but who had hard, probing eyes.
Her mother, now dead, was my good friend and when she came to tell us about her plans and to show off her ring I had a sobering wish to say something meaningful to her, something her mother would wish said.
Her quarters were on the right as you walked into the building, and her small front room was clogged with heavy furniture -- a big, round, oak dining table and chairs, a buffet, with a row of unclaimed letters inserted between the mirror and its frame.
Her hair was dyed, and her bloom was fading, and she must have been crowding forty, but she seemed to be one of those women who cling to the manners and graces of a pretty child of eight.
Her voice was ripe and full and her teeth flashed again in Sicilian brilliance before the warm curved lips met and her mouth settled in repose.
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