"Of course they can't understand a Man's World! They aren't human--they're just a pack of Fe-Fe-Females!" This was after he had to admit their parthenogenesis.
"I wish our grandfatherly minds had managed as well," said Jeff.

"Do you really think it's to our credit that we have muddled along with all our poverty and disease and the like?
They have peace and plenty, wealth and beauty, goodness and intellect.

Pretty good people, I think!" "You'll find they have their faults too," Terry insisted; and partly in self-defense, we all three began to look for those faults of theirs.
We had been very strong on this subject before we got there--in those baseless speculations of ours.
"Suppose there is a country of women only," Jeff had put it, over and over.

"What'll they be like ?" And we had been cocksure as to the inevitable limitations, the faults and vices, of a lot of women.

We had expected them to be given over to what we called "feminine vanity"-- "frills and furbelows," and we found they had evolved a costume more perfect than the Chinese dress, richly beautiful when so desired, always useful, of unfailing dignity and good taste.
We had expected a dull submissive monotony, and found a daring social inventiveness far beyond our own, and a mechanical and scientific development fully equal to ours.
We had expected pettiness, and found a social consciousness besides which our nations looked like quarreling children--feebleminded ones at that.
We had expected jealousy, and found a broad sisterly affection, a fair-minded intelligence, to which we could produce no parallel.
We had expected hysteria, and found a standard of health and vigor, a calmness of temper, to which the habit of profanity, for instance, was impossible to explain--we tried it.
All these things even Terry had to admit, but he still insisted that we should find out the other side pretty soon.
"It stands to reason, doesn't it ?" he argued.