I feel that we are currently living in a world that is similar to late '50s, early '60s kind of world.
It was always disappointing to see that what I could really master in terms of form boiled down to so little.
The father of a daughter is nothing but a high-class hostage. A father turns a stony face to his sons, berates them, shakes his antlers, paws the ground, snorts, runs them off into the underbrush, but when his daughter puts her arm over his shoulder and says, 'Daddy, I need to ask you something,' he