The truth matters. Sometimes it’s the only weapon that we have against the powerful men who are trying to shut us up.
Is it really necessary to be that beautiful? Because frankly, it’s incredibly unfair. It’s not enough that women have to compete with other women, now men are getting in the mix? You can’t have it all. You can’t run the world and have all the pretty underwear, too. The competition wasn’t stiff enough with the hoards of slutty secretaries roaming the Earth?
You and I both know the outcome of this battle has already been decided. But not by men. By the other women who spin our fates.[to Gunnhild]
Women are born with this little hole between their legs, which every man on earth just wants to stick something into. And they’re weaker than men, so they learn strategies. They deploy their minds and their sex, and they intuitively learn to humiliate.
Women age differently than men do. In a man, the left ventricle, the one that pumps red blood into the body, gets larger, thicker as he gets older. In a woman, it shrinks. I am now more than a century old. My heart must be just a few karats at this point. There is room there for very little, so what still fits inside means more to me than ever. It means everything. The last 100 years of my immortal life have been a lie. The illusion of control. In truth, I have controlled nothing. I have surrounded myself with fools and flatterers, put my trust in those who could not be trusted. Enemies without. Enemies within. It is time to construct something new. Something durable. With fortifications of iron, stone and steel. I will not be ruled. I will not be managed.