I think 99 percent of women's lib comes from technology making different kinds of lives possible, and then the social adjustment follows the technology - it doesn't precede it.
I spent my 20s working in patient care at a large university hospital, an experience that has informed all my work and has given me a lot of human observation to draw on.
I've described my usual writing process as scrambling from peak to peak on inspiration through foggy valleys of despised logic. Inspiration is better when you can get it.
I've always tried to write the kind of book I most loved to read: character-centered adventure.
The Imperial Service could win a war without coffee, but would prefer not to have to.
It is always easier to get forgiveness than permission.
Miles is... Miles; close to a force of nature, climbing up out of his own pages and escaping subordination to any opinion of mine.
Cecil flashed a grin. "Quite. Plus your rather irritating habit of treating your superior officers as your, ah..." Cecil paused, apparently groping again for just the right word. "Equals?" Miles hazarded. "Cattle," Cecil corrected judiciously.
I am increasingly convinced that technological culture is the entire root of women's liberation.
When you can’t do something truly useful, you tend to vent the pent up energy in something useless but available, like snappy dressing.
I take it as a man's duty to restrain himself.
My dinner party,' Miles grated. 'It's just breaking up.' And sinking. All souls feared lost.
Seems like half my anxiety dreams are about airports.
Our children change us... whether they live or not.
A price is something you get. A cost is something you lose.
Your Reverence, I do not hate any man in this world enough to inflict the results of my prayers upon him.
If there's no game, isn't winning a pretty meaningless concept?
Miles added it to his life's lessons list. Call it Rule 27B. Never make key tactical decisions while having electro-convulsive seizures.
But have you ever overheard two women discussing men? Men are crude liars, comparing their drabs, but women - I'd rather have [an] anatomist dissect me alive than to listen to the things the ladies say about us when they think they are alone.
Yes," Vorkosigan agreed, "I could take over the universe with this army if I could ever get all their weapons pointed in the same direction.
They stared at her curiously, and she caught snatches of conversation in two or three languages. It wasn't hard to guess their content, and she smiled a bit primly. Youth, it appeared, was full of illusions as to how much sexual energy two people might have to spare while hiking forty or so kilometers a day, concussed, stunned, diseased, on poor food and little sleep, alternating caring for a wounded man with avoiding becoming dinner for every carnivore within range - and with a coup to plan for the end.
The good face pain. But the great? They embrace it.
For a while, I thought I was going mad. At last, I became reconciled to my despair. The medications helped, too, I thought, sir.
You couldn't be that good and not know it, somewhere in your secret heart, however much you'd been abused into affecting public humility.
His outflung hands traced over the threads of his rug, passed loop by loop through some patient woman's hands. Or maybe she hadn't been patient. Maybe she'd been tired, or irritated, or distracted, or hungry, or angry. Maybe she had been dying. But her hands had kept moving, all the same.
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