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

The only way I can possibly heat my so-called mind up to working temperature is to imagine I'm talking to someone I admire.

Absolutes are absolutely dangerous.

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

I cannot teach -- if I teach as teaching should be I become so exhausted I nearly die, I seem to have no middle gear.

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.

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