There is no absolutely “objective” scientific analysis of culture -or put perhaps more narrowly but certainly not essentially differently for our purposes- of “social phenomena” independent of special and “one-sided” viewpoints according to which -expressly or tacitly, consciously or unconsciously- they are selected, analyzed and organized for expository purposes. The reasons for this lie in the character of the cognitive goal of all the research in social science which seeks to transcend the purely formal treatment of the legal or conventional norms regulating social life.
"Maybe you can put some of the feelings you’re experiencing to good use. Perhaps it’s time for a new song. I can imagine expressing yourself through your music would be therapeutic for you. Just a thought.” Dismissing his suggestion, I said, “I can’t imagine writing music right now. My heart is broken.”
Perhaps I am a man of exceptional moods. I do not know how far my experience is common. At times I suffer from the strangest sense of detachment from myself and the world about me; I seem to watch it all from the outside, from somewhere inconceivably remote, out of time, out of space, out of the stress and tragedy of it all.
Fred could go on getting me pregnant for years. I was only thirty years old, and likely to be fertile for a few more years. Perhaps I would reach the change life about fifty at the earliest. Another twenty years of being able to produce babies! No, that was it. Enough.
“Because you are a prince, and the son of Odysseus. Because you respect the laws of gods and men. Because your father is dead, and my son the cause. Perhaps you think to try your hand at me as well. Or did you just want me to watch?”
The fragility of mortals bred kindness and good grace. They knew how to value friendship and an open hand. If only more of them would come, I thought. I would feed a ship a day, and gladly. Two ships. Three. Perhaps I would start to feel like myself again.