Some Things You Didn't Give Away, No

I See God Now As An Unimaginative Writer Of Popular Fictions, Someone Who Builds Stories Around Sadistic And Graceless Plots, Narratives That Exist Only To Express His Terror Of A Woman's Power To Choose Who And How To Love, To Redefine Love As She Sees Fit, Not As God Thinks It Ought To Be. The Author Is Unworthy Of His Own Characters.

Workers Of The World Awaken. Break Your Chains, Demand Your Rights. All The Wealth You Make Is Taken, By Exploiting Parasites. Shall You Kneel In Deep Submission From Your Cradle To Your Grave? Is The Height Of Your Ambition To Be A Good And Willing Slave?

There's Only Room For One Hero In This Story-and Everyone Knows The Devil Doesn't Get To Be The Good Guy.

Men, She Thought, Were One Of The World's Few Sure Comforts, Like A Fire On A Cold October Night, Like Cocoa, Like Broken-in-slippers. Their Clumsy Affections, Their Bristly Faces, And Their Willingness To Do What Needed To Be Done - Cook An Omelette, Change Lightbulbs, Make With Hugging - Sometimes Almost Made Being A Woman Fun.

I Remember An Era When You Could Get Your Nose Sliced Off For Sticking It Too Far Into Another Man's Business. Now You Can Find Out Anything About Anyone With The Click Of A Button. There Is No Privacy And No Consideration, And Everyone Is Prying Into Things That Aren't Their Affair. You Can Probably Check On The Intertube And Find Out What Color Underwear I Have On Today.