Quotes About Masculinity

men are much softer than women, more sentimental. They cry at the movies and pretend not to. The male of the species is weak. He doesn't tolerate pain well.

Russian men don't always make the best fathers. Unfortunately, is is a cultural trait they pass on to their sons. - Elena Kharkov

This is best thing about being manly: it's so easy to fake. Smear some oil on your face, or nod and say "Aaah" near mechanics.

Men are taught to offer help, but too often we don't know how to receive it, not even from the most natural places.

man becomes a soft, flabby, weak creature. This is especially true in a privileged society like that found in the United States, where a metrosexual will squeal like a little bitch if the Vietnamese lady giving him his manicure cuts too close to his cuticle. Not only will such a pathetic creature be unable to stand even the mildest rite of passage, but if he even witnesses one, he will have to undergo years of therapy to cure his posttraumatic stress.

And, unlike British and American women, we do not go around with a hatchet in our hand trying to chop the balls off every man we meet. Because we want—and need—our men to be men. Real men. Not macho assholes, not gorillas, men. Fathers in peace, lions in war.

Real men don't read directions, don't ask for directions, and never let a lack of understanding stop them

For a long time, I used to think that I had a man's brain that I thought more like a man than a woman. But now I've come to realise that whatever it is I do think like, it's not like men; because men don't really think like men, they think like boys.

I have a tiny wiener.

Losing your hair and the need to replenish it at all cost is overrated, being bald is a beautiful or manly thing embrace it

Being a good actor isn't easy. Being a man is even harder. I want to be both before I'm done.

The most dangerous men on earth are those who are afraid they are wimps

When men feel the wound that cannot heal, they either bury themselves in woman's arms and ask her for healing, which she cannot provide, or they hide themselves in macho pride and enforced loneliness.

This is a mans world. This is a mans world. But it would be nothing, nothing Without a women or a girl.

You got guys who slap women around for five years because they didn't wear a veil. You know, guys like that ain't got no manhood left anyway. So it's a hell of a lot of fun to shoot them.

What makes ejaculating on the outside degrading... while ejaculating inside... sacred? Do guys learn to come on a woman from porn or from premature ejaculation? [...] For that matter, masturbating guys ejaculate on their own bodies all the time, and not one says, 'Oh God, I just degraded myself.

I love the idea of there being two sexes, don't you?

Women have this deep instinctive need to build a man up as a man. I suppose this is because real men become fewer and fewer, and we are frightened, trying to create a man.

But you know how it is—it's always that moment, when a man looks all wounded in his masculinity, one can't bear it, one needs to bolster him up." "Yes, but they just kick us afterwards as hard as they can, so why do we do it?" "Yes, but I never seem to learn.

Men could do anything, and everything they did, no matter how violent or mistaken, was viewed with humor and understanding. The sheriff would lock them up for shooting out each other's windows, or racing their pickups down the railroad tracks, or punching out the bartender over at the Rhythm Ranch, and my aunts would shrug and make sure the children were all right at home. What men did was just what men did. Some days I would grind my teeth, wishing I had been born a boy.

A trained fighting man, accustomed to hard words and hard blows and the company of men like himself, for years ruled by the self-discipline required by the world's greatest order of chivalry, Jerott had come to terms now with the fact that one man could make him feel and act like a rhinoceros in a cloud of mosquitoes.

With Jerott Blyth, innkeepers never shirked the proper discharge of their duties. To the doggedness of his Scottish birth, his long residence in France and his profession of arms had lent a particular fluency. He was black-haired, and prepossessing and rude: a masterful combination.

How nice to go through life being male, pretty and wanted.

Like all male creatures Wimsey was a simple soul at bottom.