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Quote by Nate Green

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Nate Green
Nate Green

Nate Green, born on May 25, 1985, is an influential American author known for his distinctive writing style and engaging narratives. His works span various genres, including novels, essays, and poetry, and have garnered widespread acclaim from readers around the world. more

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“Seriously, Jack, I think you might be the only guy in this city who hasn’t read his stuff. Collin McCann is like the Carrie Bradshaw of Chicago men.” “You mean Terry Bradshaw,” Jack corrected. “No, Carrie,” Wilkins repeated. “You know, Sarah Jessica Parker. Sex and the City.” A silence fell over the room as Collin and Jack stared at Wilkins, seriously fearing for the fate of men.”

“Why do magazines do this to women?” Miranda complains now, glaring at Vogue. “It’s all about creating insecurity. Trying to make women feel like they’re not good enough. And when women don’t feel like they’re good enough, guess what?” “What?” I ask, picking up the grocery bag. “Men win. That’s how they keep us down,” she concludes. “Except the problem with women’s magazines is that they’re written by women,” I point out. “That only shows you how deep this thing goes. Men have made women coconspirators in their own oppression. I mean, if you spend all your time worrying about leg hair, how can you possibly have time to take over the world?”

“In your life, some people need you to show up as the best version of yourself so you can provide security or a better future. Some people come to America to provide a better future for their families. Others dedicate themselves to earning multi-generational wealth to stop the cycle of poverty for their loved ones.”

“I really liked it.” She covers her mouth in horror. “If I like sex, do you think it means I can’t be a feminist?” “No.” I shake my head. “Because being a feminist -- I think it means being in charge of your sexuality. You decide who you want to have sex with. It means not trading your sexuality for… other things.” “Like marrying some gross guy who you’re not in love with just so you can have a nice house with a picket fence.” “Or marrying a rich old geezer. Or a guy who expects you to cook him dinner every night and take care of the children,” I say, thinking of Samantha. “Or a guy who makes you have sex with him whenever he wants, even if you don’t,” Miranda concludes. We look at each other in triumph, as if we’ve finally solved one of the world’s great problems.”

“Only the “˜intercourse’ part.” Miranda makes quotation marks with her fingers. “Why do they call it intercourse anyway? It makes it sound like it’s some kind of conversation. Which it isn’t. It’s penetration, pure and simple. There’s no give-and-take involved.” “It’s an act of war,” Miranda objects, getting heated. “The penis is saying, “˜Let me in,’ and the vagina is saying, “˜Get the hell away from me, creep.”