Paul Yeates

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At the same time, though, I was saddened. What I’d taken as admiration all these years had really been a kind of indulgence, the way one might praise a child for her childish achievements. The womanly skills I’d mastered were important and intricate, and by no means easy. They required deep intelligence, an intelligence of the heart. But Ram didn’t understand that. He didn’t understand the complexity of the female existence.
The Forest of Enchantments
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