“I hate women because they always know where things
are. At first blush, you might think that a perverse and merely churlish reason
for hating women, but it is not. Naturally, every man enjoys having a woman
around the house who knows where his shirt-studs and his brief-case are, and
things like that, but he detests having a woman around who knows where everything is, even things that are of
no importance at all, such as, say, the snapshots her husband took three years
ago at Elbow Beach. The husband has never known where these snapshots were
since the day they were developed and printed; he hopes, in a vague way, if he
thinks about them at all, that after three years they have been thrown out. But
his wife knows where they are, and so do his mother, his grandmother, his
great-grandmother, his daughter, and the maid. They could put their fingers on
them in a moment, with that quiet air of superior knowledge which makes a man
feel that he is out of touch with all the things that count in life.”—American
humorist, cartoonist, and playwright James Thurber (1894-1961), “The Case
Against Women,” in Let Your Mind Alone and Other More or Less Inspirational Pieces
(1937)
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