The Extraordinary Life of an Ordinary Man: A Memoir

by Paul Newman

But the connectedness was more brotherly than paternal, because I somehow didn’t think of myself as a father. I have a great sense of omission now about this, of things unfinished or never started. A sense of screwing up. What should have been a strong father-and-son attachment was failing, a marriage was coming apart, and I didn’t even realize it.

Scott was an incredibly sensitive child. And I don’t think incredibly sensitive people fare well in this world.

What I know about nature and nurture is that it’s divided somehow depending on the individual. But what that individual does to the extent they were un-nurtured or natured improperly ultimately belongs to them. People have to take responsibility for what they do.

As far as I’m concerned, a philanthropist is someone who gives up an entirely comfortable way of life, goes out into the populace, gets his hands dirty, and dedicates himself to whatever keeps them dirty. The grace of that person is formidable.

What’s hard to give is time. To offer hands-on relationships to people who are less privileged.

It takes such a long time to grow up and by the time you really get there the people usually you’re growing up for are gone.