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Molly had made up her mind in the first days of our acquaintance that I was gifted and bedeviled—and the man for her. She made it her duty on earth to encourage, protect, support, and—in the end—tolerate me in whatever I did. It nearly killed her, but she did not waver from her self-imposed duty, n…

I can recall nights that spring when at two or three in the morning, dead drunk, I’d be leaning across the sill of my open window and crying in great, coarse-throat jags. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. Despite my new interest in the backstage crafts, I was living a life without satisfaction …

His apartment was dark, and it did indeed look as if a life had just ended there. Over two great slugs of Scotch, I asked and he told me what had happened to the “big” athletes of our day, men I’d admired who’d had jobs on Wall Street waiting for them after they graduated. But their scores “downtow…

There was a long stretch of my life, unhappily, when I was not able to be faithful to anyone, not to a single woman, not to the best woman I’d known, my first wife, Molly. I used to assert—this was my rationale—that I was faithful to her in every way except sexually (actually I was), and I used to …

I found many women were working off the same kind of thing I was. They were getting back at squadrons of men, and would go to extraordinary lengths to play out their grudges. Sometimes I thought they actually preferred breaking the marriage laws in their own beds. And if an infant, the fruit of the…