A story with bombs and love and engineers and a woman with two heads «I love both her and them. I have come to understand that she is what they are. A woman accepts a man, expecting that he will change. A man takes a woman, expecting that she will never change. They are both disappointed. Yet within this very disappointment is the primal source of all new men and all new women.» «No one within the castle had ever been able to overcome the severe grammatical problems associated with Ida. Sometimes she was “she,” sometimes they were “they”. There were further problems with the singular form, the plural form, the feminine plural possessives, the feminine singular and plural pronoun declensions, and so forth. Even when I came to know Ida, Clemenza, Vittoria, particularly well, so much so that I used affectionate diminutives for her, and the intimate familiar form rather than any formal honorifics, I used to stumble over the simplest Italian sentences: “You” (singular) come embrace me,” or “You (plural) please give me a kiss.”»