“I guess I don’t understand women.”
“That’s an understatement.”

You are a smart man, Ira, but sometimes I think you do not understand women very well.

I have always found women difficult. I don't really understand them. To begin with, few women tell the truth.

Je connais peu les femmes; mais il me semble qu'il est difficile qu'on admire ce qu'on ne comprend pas

When I say I know women, I mean I know that I don't know them. Every single woman I ever knew is a puzzle to me, as I have no doubt she is to herself.

The tendency of some people to confound the woman question with the sex question evidences a lack of a scientific knowledge and appreciation of the fundamental principles of the two problems.

Women do not know how to be women exactly; men constantly fail to be men.

I don't understand girls, but I'm slowly learning.

I don't understand women. Nobody does. Least of all themselves.

Well that's it, I give up. I really don't know what the women are thinking. I've talked with them. I've studied them. I've asked them to study me. And I have to admit I am still at aquare one.

I profess not to know how women's hearts are wooed and won. To me they have always been matters of riddle and admiration.

I am failing as a woman. I am failing as a feminist. To freely accept the feminist label would not be fair to good feminists. If I am, indeed, a feminist, I am a rather bad one. I am a mess of contradictions. There are many ways in which I am doing feminism wrong, at least according to the way my perceptions of feminism have been warped by being a woman.

When you don’t understand women, you can’t serve them.

When feminist discourse is unable to discriminate the drunken fraternity brother from the homicidal maniac, women are in trouble.