You know, there are better ways for a person to deal with their psychological issues than to throw out baseless assertions against an author they don’t like.
It is the individual who is not interested in his fellow men who has the greatest difficulties in life and provides the greatest injury to tethers. It is from among such individuals that all human failures spring.
Alfred Adler, from What Life Should mean to You
This is why Ayn Rand’s attitude is usually dysfunctional.
I’m going to echo chorpler, and add that it would be difficult for someone to research this without obtaining a copy of Ayn Rand’s journals; there aren’t a great many resources online that are not of the variety posted by the OP. He did the right thing by posting the question.
It’s weird for you to call me an author, but absolutely I hope you find a better way to deal with your psychological issues. Seriously, good luck on that, dude.
Henry: I feel sorry for you, Mark. You just don’t know how to have fun.
Mark: What?
Henry: It’s because you’re scared all the time. I know. I used to be scared too. But that was before I found out.
Mark: Found out what?
Henry: That once you realize that you can do anything… you’re free. You can fly. Nobody can touch you… nobody. Mark… don’t be afraid to fly.
Mark: You’re sick…
Henry: Hey, I promise you something amazing, something you’ll never forget. Where’s the gratitude?
That’s as may be. But, if so, Rand’s philosophy is also . . . easily misconstrued, isn’t it?
Robbie Gould: I didn’t blow a summer hauling toasted bagels just to bail out some little chick who probably balled every guy in the place. [Baby is pouring water into glasses for him]
Robbie Gould: A little precision please, Baby. Some people count and some people don’t. [brings out a copy of The Fountainhead from his pocket]
Robbie Gould: Read it. I think it’s a book you’ll enjoy, but make sure you return it; I have notes in the margin.
Baby: You make me sick. Stay away from me, stay away from my sister or I’ll have you fired.
*[Baby pours the jug of water on his crotch] *
You should have met Rand’s husband. He looked like one of her heroes (in her opinion, not mine), and had no discernible talents outside of the bedroom. He went from mediocre actor to mediocre artist to mediocre floral designer . . . yet Rand utterly worshiped him. He was a very nice guy and nothing more. His only claim to fame was the fact that he came up with the title Atlas Shrugged.
She met and fell in love with him around the same time she wrote about Hickman.
And then later had an extended affair with a protege and couldn’t understand why neither her husband nor her lover was happy with the resulting situation. She was perfectly content with the setup.
As I recall reading about it, anyway. Someone feel free to correct that as needed…