Yes, me.” She made a claw of her hand and clutched at her collarbone. “Me. Me. Me. Oh, you poor, self-deluded – Look at you! Look at you, and tell me how by any stretch” – she tossed her head, and the grin of her teeth glistened white in the moonlight – “by any stretch of the imagination you can call yourself a man!
-Richard Yates
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