Pity's akin to love; and every thought Of that soft kind is welcome to my soul.
NGOs have a significant role to play, alongside governments, in improving the status of women.
Too often the desire for peace has been expressed by women while the stewardship of the mechanisms which are used to attempt to secure peace in the short and medium term are dominated by male decision-making structures and informal arrangements. This must change.
With the adoption of the Declaration on the Elimination of Violence against Women, the international community sent out a clear message that gender based violence will not be tolerated.
By and large, women in New Zealand are fortunate compared with some other countries, including many in our own region. But there is still progress to be made.
The Open Skies issue is something that's ongoing and we understand that there are issues in Australia that need to be sorted out. It's something that I think over time there's an opportunity for us and we'll work on that in a progressive way.
The serious problems facing the world today will never be solved until women are able to use their full potential on behalf of themselves, their families, and their global and local communities, as the World Bank and others have discovered
One should strive to understand what underlies sufferings and diseases - and aim for health and well-being while gaining in the Path.
My sisters and I stand, arms around each other, laughind and wiping the tears from each others eyes. The flash of the Polaroid goes off and my family hands me the snapshot. My sisters and I watch quietly together, eager to see what develops. Ghe grey-greensurface changes to the bright colors of our three images, sharpening and deepening all at once. And although we don't speak, I know we all see it: Together we look like our mother. Her same eyes, her same mouth, open in suprise to see, her long-cherished wish.
By those who look close to the ground dirt will be seen. I hope I see things from a greater distance.
The howling pariah dogs, the cocks that herald dawn all night, the drumming, the moaning that will be found later white plumage huddled on telegraph wires in back gardens or fowl roosting in apple trees, the eternal sorrow that never sleeps of great Mexico.