Q. Like Man?
A. No, men. The women aren't quite the same. That's why I always choose to be one, but I wish you would send somebody else—another part of our Organism. I'm tired.
Q. Absurd. Besides, you are the best; you cannot be tired.
A. The best! How am I the best? You do nothing but criticize. You send me because I understand the intentions—the leanings—of live things. You say I understand understanding. I suppose that makes me some kind of epistemologist: the father confessor of the inscrutable.
Q. Wouldn't it be mother confessor?
A. Not with them; they don't like women to be priests. They can be holy, but they don't like women to tell them what to do. It's called nagging. They get especially angry if the woman is right.
Q. Hmm. Now you say that we criticize you. You surely are not going to claim to be above criticism here, are you?
A. Oh, no. I'm beneath it.
Q. Then why do you resent it?
A. Because it doesn't apply. If a mother is not a fool, she will correct her child, but she won't blame it. You can't go looking for good and evil motives in everything that happens. Does a stone have a motive when it falls to the ground?