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To begin with, I don’t believe in alternate life styles. Having lived communally, having been married, having lived alone, it all comes down to the same thing: you live, ultimately, with yourself.
By Sy SafranskySeptember 1975Summer in College Town. At 7:30 a.m. eating a bagel with cream cheese at Out To Lunch they discuss getting married. At 5:30 p.m. the same day they are in a lawyer’s office in Raleigh writing their marriage contract.
By Britt StaffordApril 1975Going home, as if home were still a possibility, or, like those other shadowy and relative values of our age — love, honesty, rationality — nothing more than a momentary echo of something past, and nearly forgotten, a smudge on the map, a torn page from the history book, when families stayed put, when the heart was forever, when politicians were statesmen, when faith was an arbiter at the edge of learning rather than a substitute for reason.
By Sy SafranskySeptember 1974When asked “am I happily married,” my unquestioning response is yes. But why? Before I was married, I definitely felt a need for love, something deep, and someone to whom I could completely open up without being afraid of rejection.
By Ann TolleyJune 1974Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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