For most people, a life lived alone, with passing strangers or passing lovers, is incoherent and ultimately unbearable. Someone must be there to know what we have done for those we love. — Frank Pittman Copy Share Image
In colonial America, the father was the primary parent. . . . Over the past two hundred years, each generation of fathers has hadless… — Frank Pittman Copy Share Image
We long for our father. We wear his clothes, and actually try to fill his shoes. . . . We hang on to him,… — Frank Pittman Copy Share Image
Our ability to fall in love requires enough comfort with our masculinity to join it with someone's femininity and feel enhanced. .. . If… — Frank Pittman Copy Share Image
The mother must teach her son how to respect and follow the rules. She must teach him how to compete successfully with the other… — Frank Pittman Copy Share Image
Parents can fail to cheer your successes as wildly as you expected, pointing out that you are sharing your Nobel Prize with a couple… — Frank Pittman Copy Share Image
Every boy was supposed to come into the world equipped with a father whose prime function was to be our father and show us… — Frank Pittman Copy Share Image
At the heart of male bonding is this experience of boys in early puberty: they know they must break free from their mothers and… — Frank Pittman Copy Share Image
We know how powerful our mother was when we were little, but is our wife that powerful to us now? Must we relive our… — Frank Pittman Copy Share Image
Mothers who are strong people, who can pursue a life of their own when it is time to let their children go, empower their… — Frank Pittman Copy Share Image
Fidelity is the single most important element in solidly enduring marriages. — Frank Pittman Copy Share Image
Some parents were awful back then and are awful still. The process of raising you didn't turn them into grown-ups. Parents who were clearly… — Frank Pittman Copy Share Image
To insult a friend implies that you respect his masculinity enough to know he can take it without acting like a crybaby. The swapping… — Frank Pittman Copy Share Image
