Anna Quindlen

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Anna Quindlen in 2008

Anna Quindlen (born July 8, 1952) is an American journalist and opinion columnist whose New York Times column, Public and Private, won the Pulitzer Prize for Commentary in 1992.


  • If men got pregnant, there would be safe, reliable methods of birth control. They'd be inexpensive, too.
    • The New York Times. Living Out Loud, p. 31 (1988)
  • Some of my best friends are men. It is simply that I think women are superior to men. There, I've said it. It's my dirty little secret. [...]
    The other day, a very wise friend of mine asked "Have you ever noticed that what passes as a terrific man would only be an adequate woman?" A Roman candle went off in my head; she was absolutely right. What I expect from my male friends is that there are polite and clean. What I expect from my female friends is unconditional love, the ability to finish my sentences for me when I am sobbing, and the ability to tell me why the meat thermometer isn't supposed to touch the bone.
    • The New York Times. Living Out Loud, pp. 26-27 (1988)
  • People who wish to salute the free and independent side of their evolutionary character acquire cats. People who wish to pay homage to their servile and salivating roots own dogs.
    • The New York Times. Thinking Out Loud, p. 122 (1993)
  • Here is the real domino theory: Gay man to gay man, bisexual man to straight woman, addict mother to newborn baby, they all fall down and someday it will come to you.
    • The dangers of an AIDS epidemic. The New York Times, sect. A, p. 31 (December 9, 1993).
  • People always blame the girl; she should have said no. A monosyllable, but conventional wisdom has always been that boys can't manage it.
    • The New York Times, sect. 4, p. 13 (April 11, 1993).
  • Our love of lockstep is our greatest curse, the source of all that bedevils us. It is the source of homophobia, xenophobia, racism, sexism, terrorism, bigotry of every variety and hue, because it tells us there is one right way to do things, to look, to behave, to feel, when the only right way is to feel your heart hammering inside you and to listen to what its timpani is saying.

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