Ursula

Ursula and Chelsea are battling over the boy they both have a crush on. Judging from the blood and teeth everywhere, this seems to be more of a matter of power than love.

In this moment all we know is that Ursula is dead.

"Ambisexual" may mean being "bisexual," having no fixed gender (as some characters in Ursula Le Guin's sci-fi books), or being sexually attracted to non-operative trans people.

One of my favourite sci-fi authors is Ursula K. Le Guin. She is famous for her Earthsea franchise.

I have been wanting to acquire the Japanese version of Ursula Le Guin's sci-fi novel, Always Coming Home. It is a fascinating story of life thousands of years from now, in what is now Northern California. People live similarly as the Amerindians did.

Ursula Le Guin's Earthsea franchise is very stimulating. As a Filipino, I am from an archipelagic country, and I can relate to the islander culture and supposedly brown people of magical Earthsea. Publishers market this franchise as sci-fi, but it seems also fantasy—maybe "science fantasy" as some call it.

What is the aim of Ursula von der Leyen with the migrant flows?

Of Ursula K. Le Guin's writings, I favour Always Coming Home, in which people live like Native Indians in Northern California in the far future, and her Earthsea series, a magical archipelagic world, where there are brown people. Publishers market her stories as sci-fi.

One of my ancestral lands is Greece, and I have visited this eerily non-European-looking European country with its strange architectures. I went through the sunny islands and the mainland. A favourite travelogue is The Olive Grove by Katherine Kizilos, a Greek-Australian who voyaged in the off-season. Ursula K. Le Guin's Earthsea fictional series is reminiscent of this magical land. I love the Mediterranean climate.

Ursula von der Leyen is blackmailing Italian voters.

Whisper her ear, and tell her, I and Ursula / Walk in the orchard, and our whole discourse / Is all of her;

"Is her name Ursula?" And I called to mind the little girl who had tried to give some bread to the hungry John Halifax, and whose cry of pain we heard as the door shut upon her. Poor little lady! how sorry I was.