Anyone who has ever watched little boys at play knows that
whatever they are up to, for good or ill, their hearts are always on their
sleeves. Little girls acquire wiles with practically their first step. They
flirt, they pout, they manipulate. Watch a group of them at play, and what will
be going on beneath their games is an instinctive feel for tactics and strategy
worthy of the world’s most practiced diplomats. Boys, by contrast, have no
wiles. As the years go on, life will teach them not to cry when they want to,
and to cover up their fear. But little boys almost never dissemble or
manipulate; even their lies are
transparent. Nor, as a rule, do they romanticize themselves, which is perhaps
why millions upon millions of them could be sent into combat without becoming
murderers.
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