1.0ΒΙΒΛΙΟΒΑΡΔΙΑ Βιβλιοπωλείο - Εκδόσειςhttps://vivliovardia.gr/en/artdirectorhttps://vivliovardia.gr/en/author/artdirector/rich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="fmjJtM1J0p"><a href="https://vivliovardia.gr/en/product/despoinis-tzoulia/">Miss Julia</a></blockquote><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="https://vivliovardia.gr/en/product/despoinis-tzoulia/embed/#?secret=fmjJtM1J0p" width="600" height="338" title="“Miss Julia” — ΒΙΒΛΙΟΒΑΡΔΙΑ Βιβλιοπωλείο - Εκδόσεις" data-secret="fmjJtM1J0p" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe><script> /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&"undefined"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=new RegExp("^https?:$","i"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display="none";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):"link"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute("src")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute("data-secret"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+="#?secret="+t,e.setAttribute("data-secret",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:"ready",secret:t},"*")},!1)))}(window,document); </script> https://vivliovardia.gr/wp-content/uploads/2021/11/THEA_despoinis-julia.webp10001483I love him, very much, but I should hate him, too. I think this happened without me realizing it. But he cultivated in me the loathing of my own sex… half woman and half man! Whose fault is what happened? My father's… my mother's… mine? Mine; Why, I have nothing that is mine. There is not a thought of mine that does not come from my father; not a passion that does not come from my mother; and now this last—that all human creatures are equal—I got it from my betrothed—whom that's why I called you a skunk! How can it be my fault? To blame Jesus, as Christina does… no, I am too proud to do such a thing, and, thanks to what my father taught me, I know so much... And as for a rich man not being able to enter heaven, that's a lie, and Christina who has a big bank account, definitely couldn't get in. Whose fault is it? What does it matter whose it is? Whoever it is, I am to blame and must pay the consequences.