To be intimate with a married man, when my own father cheated on my mother, is not something I could forgive. I could not look at myself in the morning if I did that. I wouldn't be attracted to a man who would cheat on his wife.
My theory was that good furniture could be priced so that the man with the flat wallet would be attracted to it, would make a place for it in his spending, and could afford it.
My father was a restaurant man, laundry man in his lifetime. And I've often wondered how and why did I become an actor? Where did I get the so-called talent to express myself? And I look back, and I see that my mother was very animated. I can remember that she used to, what she called 'bei zhu.'
Human beings look separate because you see them walking about separately. But then we are so made that we can see only the present moment. If we could see the past, then of course it would look different. For there was a time when every man was part of his mother, and (earlier still) part of his father as well, and when they were part of his grandparents. If you could see humanity spread out in time, as God sees it, it would look like one single growing thing--rather like a very complicated tree. Every individual would appear connected with every other.
After my second marriage failed... I said, 'You know, could I have a relationship with a man? A loving relationship with a man that would involve intimacy?' For a while, before I did get into a relationship, I saw, for a few years, either women or men. And I found that I could be attracted to both.
In marrying, a man does not, to be sure, marry his wife's mother; and yet a prudent man, when he begins to think of the daughter, would look sharp at the mother; ay, and back to the grandmother too, and along the whole female line of ancestry.
I know he did horrible things in the jungle. Things no amount of alcohol or pills could erase. War stains soldiers, all the way through their psyches, into their souls. I understand that, and could almost forgive him for taking his own life, to quiet the ghosts. But I can never forgive him for taking my mother with him.
I mean, her father was an alcoholic, and her mother was the suffering wife of a man who she could never predict what he would do, where he would be, who he would be. And it's sort of interesting because Eleanor Roosevelt never writes about her mother's agony. She only writes about her father's agony. But her whole life is dedicated to making it better for people in the kind of need and pain and anguish that her mother was in.
I derive no pleasure from prosecuting a man, even though I know he's guilty; do you think I could sleep at night or look at myself in the mirror in the morning if I hounded an innocent man?
Verily has man freewill to control his actions. That my Father-Mother has given to man as his inheritance. But the control of the ractions to those actions man has never had. This my Father-Mother holds inviolate. These cannot become man's except through modifying his actions until the reactions are their exact equal and opposite in equilibrium.
My mother told me that my birth mother got pregnant by a married man who didn't want to leave his wife.
My father was truly a great man. I remember one day putting my feet in my father's shoes. I was amazed at the size. Would I ever be big enough to fill his shoes? Could I ever grow into the man my father was? I wondered.
And it's beautiful - the man that I married has never ever put just a limit on to what I could do and would do as a woman, as his wife, as a mommy. He actually pushes me out the door a little sometimes more than I wanted him to.
When I was a teenager, my father went bust. He could have declared himself bankrupt, but he was an honourable man and he insisted on paying back all his debts. That almost ruined the family. I was aware that my mother and father couldn't control things anymore. I guess I was afraid that we would end up on the street.
Americans were in love with mesmerism because it was something that you could do in your own home. You could mesmerize or hypnotize your aunt or your mother or your father and people would go into these trance states and you could introduction autosuggestions tot hem or as some people saw it, you could cure them of illnesses.
Every father was his own man. He did what he wanted. If your mother went shopping, your father never went with her.
The real moon,if you could reach it and survive it, would in a deep and deadly sense be just like anywhere else...no man would find an abiding strangness on the moon unless he were the sort of man who could find it in his own back garden.