I have said before that I don't want a father figure in my president. Don't need a dad. I don't want a buddy, a blusterer, a scolder, a nag. I don't need a prez to tell me to eat my broccoli and swallow my spinach. The job is a crusher.
Pressures are volcanic .
Any chink in a personal or moral armor, the lava comes rushing in, and they're cooked. They all fail. They're all flawed. What's vital is how they come back. I still think of Bill as the rube who rode into town on the back of the turnip truck, and found he was just as smart as the rich kids in the city.