The Robots of Dawn (Robot #3)

by Isaac Asimov

Daneel paused, then said, “I am not certain what is meant by the smell of a rose, but if a rose on Earth is the common flower that is called a rose on Aurora, and if by its ‘smell’ you mean a property that can be detected, sensed, or measured by human beings, then surely calling a rose by another sound-combination—and holding all else equal—would not affect the smell or any other of its intrinsic properties.”

Perhaps, thought Baley, that was how one ought to define “effete”: That to which one can become easily accustomed.

Baley’s head was throbbing slightly. He wanted to ask: could you not take into account the self-centeredness of a great scientist? The importance of a great problem? Could you make no allowances for something spoken perhaps in irritation at being forced to discuss what one did not want to discuss? Was not Vasilia’s own anger just now much the same thing? Did not Vasilia’s concentration on her own “normality” (whatever she meant by that) to the exclusion of perhaps the two most important problems facing humanity—the nature of the human brain and the settling of the Galaxy—represent an equal self-centeredness with much less excuse?

(To this defense of a man's accomplishments at the expense of a woman's experience:) What the fuck ever, Asimov.

Vasilia was breathing rapidly (Baley noted absently and without conscious intention that, although Vasilia was as small-boned as Gladia was, her breasts were larger) and she seemed to wrench at her voice to keep it under control.

Uuuuggghhhh, Asimov, you're such a fucking asshole.

And a humaniform robot—completely humaniform, I believe—” “Completely,” said Baley with an appropriate gesture.

LOL what gesture?!