I’m nobody, who are you?
Without vanity, without coquetry, without curiosity, in a word, without the fall, woman would not be woman. Much of her grace is in her frailty.
Maybe I’m too masculine. Casting directors cast in their own, or an idealized image. Maybe I don’t look like anybody’s ideal.
I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; A stage where every man must play a part, And mine is a sad one.
So the brother in black offers to these United States the source of courage that endures, and laughter.
We are not what we are, nor do we treat or esteem each other for such, but for what we are capable of being.
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