There are plenty of images of women in science fiction. There are hardly any women.

Art is collective. Always, it has a tradition behind it.

Minority art, vernacular art, is marginal art. Only on the margins does growth occur.

How withered away one can be from a life of unremitting toil.

The demon got up. The demon said Fool. To think you can eat their food and not talk to them. To think you can take their money and not be afraid of them. To think you can depend on their company and not suffer from them.

As my mother once said: The boys throw stones at the frog in jest. But the frogs die in earnest.

When the memory of one's predecessors is buried, the assumption persists that there were none and each generation of women believes itself to be faced with the burden of doing everything for the first time. And if no one ever did it beforewhy do we think we can succeed now?