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“HR told me that the feedback from my colleagues was that I hogged the conversation during meetings. Hogged. Can you believe that?” Letitia looked at her husband, Darnell, who held up his hands. “I wisely learned to stay quiet years ago,” he said. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Anyway. I started to count the minutes I actually spoke at these meetings, and it was far less than any man did. In fact, it was a quarter of the time.” “I once read an article about that,” Melina said. “When women talk twenty-five percent of the time in a room, people think it feels balanced. If they talk twenty-five
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Because a man who argues is ambitious, but a woman who argues is just a bitch.”
All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players, she told herself.
How charmed a life: to play at being a woman yet take off the costume at the end of the day and go about the world with the privileges of a man.
She did not understand why a woman’s accomplishment had to come at the price of a man’s worth—as if there were a finite amount of success in the universe, as if letting another into that sacred space meant someone already there would be evicted.
“What if I pull my earlobe like Carol Burnett?” “Who’s Carol Burnett?” “You’re a Philistine. She’s a legend.”
Nearly seventy percent of seats sold on Broadway were bought by women. “Then why are there so few female critics and producers and theater owners and writers?
She vowed to not be so focused on what came next that she neglected what was happening right now.
Grief was the tax of having something precious.
What do you say when you know your words will be your last? I was here. I mattered.
The older women grew, the more invisible they became.
she suffered from a surfeit of good sense: once you had everything you’d ever wished for, you could not help but fear the moment you wouldn’t.
a life well loved was a life well lived.
