Absolutes are absolutely dangerous.

I've had too many experiences in my life of being the first woman in some damned occupation.

And here is our girl, looking-- If possible, worse than before. (You thought this was Cinderella transistorized?)

Did you ever look into the personalities of male cooks, Army, logging camp, etc.? They're all supposed to be crazy, incomprehensible, contemptible. And angry. The act of feeding adult males seems to have strange personality effects.

Being, I imagine, must be very simple. It is Becoming which is so messy and which I am all for.

Any chance beats no chance.

All I can say is that laughter is my music; I would deeply suspect an argument which hadn't laughter.