It’s never too late while you’re breathing. - Lois McMaster Bujold

“I am a bodyguard by trade,” she said, evidently continuing a conversation with Lady Vorpatril. “How can I kick someone’s teeth in wearing this?”
“A woman wearing that suit, my dear, will have volunteers to kick in annoying persons’ teeth for her,” said Lady Alys.

This war nonsense was a great psychological education. That chronometer had to be wrong. Surely it had been a year, and not an hour…

I have noticed a curious bifurcation in outcome in the way romances are written by women et written by men - Love Story, The Bridges of Madison County, every James Bond tale ever penned, even the film named above - end with the woman either lost or dead. And the man free to love, or at least to have sex, again. Romances (in the modern genre sense) written by women end with the couple alive, together, and in a committed and at least potentially fertile relationship, ready to turn to the work of their world. In other words, men's romances are about love and death; women's romances are about love and life.