Freebsd Fortunes 2

A woman physician has made the statement that smoking is neither
physically defective nor morally degrading, and that nicotine, even
when indulged to in excess, is less harmful than excessive petting."
                -- Purdue Exponent, Jan 16, 1925

A woman shouldn't have to buy her own perfume.
                -- Maurine Lewis

A woman went into a hospital one day to give birth.  Afterwards, the doctor
came to her and said, "I have some... odd news for you."
        "Is my baby all right?" the woman anxiously asked.
        "Yes, he is," the doctor replied, "but we don't know how.  Your son
(we assume) was born with no body.  He only has a head."
        Well, the doctor was correct.  The Head was alive and well, though no
one knew how.  The Head turned out to be fairly normal, ignoring his lack of
a body, and lived for some time as typical a life as could be expected under
the circumstances.
        One day, about twenty years after the fateful birth, the woman got a
phone call from another doctor.  The doctor said, "I have recently perfected
an operation.  Your son can live a normal life now: we can graft a body onto
his head!"
        The woman, practically weeping with joy, thanked the doctor and hung
up.  She ran up the stairs saying, "Johnny, Johnny, I have a *wonderful*
surprise for you!"
        "Oh no," cried The Head, "not another HAT!"

A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle.
                -- Gloria Steinem

A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle.
Therefore, a man without a woman is like a bicycle without a fish.

A woman's best protection is a little money of her own.
                -- Clare Booth Luce, quoted in "The Wit of Women"

A woman's place is in the house... and in the Senate.

A word to the wise is enough.
                -- Miguel de Cervantes

A would-be disciple came to Nasrudin's hut on the mountain-side.  Knowing
that every action of such an enlightened one is significant, the seeker
watched the teacher closely.  "Why do you blow on your hands?"  "To warm
myself in the cold."  Later, Nasrudin poured bowls of hot soup for himself
and the newcomer, and blew on his own.  "Why are you doing that, Master?"
"To cool the soup."  Unable to trust a man who uses the same process
to arrive at two different results -- hot and cold -- the disciple departed.

A writer is congenitally unable to tell the truth and that is why we call
what he writes fiction.
                -- William Faulkner