I am the woman I grew to be partly in spite of my mother, and partly because of the extraordinary love of her best friends, and my own best friends’ mothers, and from surrogates, many of whom were not women at all but gay men. I have loved them my entire life, even after their passing.
There is a pride, a self-love, in human minds that will seldom be kept so low as to make men and women humbler than they ought to be.
Papa always makes it clear that he would like to know me as much more rational and lucid than the girls and women he gets to know during his analytic hours.
As women, we have more of a tendency to be people-pleasers, and I know a lot of women who are not vocal about what makes them happy.
I’m a simple man. All I want is enough sleep for two normal men, enough whiskey for three, and enough women for four.