All men, tall or short, arrogant or unassuming, friendly or cold, have one characteristic in common: when they come to the club, they are afraid. The more experienced amongst them hide their fear by talking loudly, the more inhibited hide their feelings and start drinking to see if they can drive the fear away. But I am convinced that, with a few very rare exceptions- the ‘special clients’ to whom Milan has not yet introduced me- they are all afraid.
Afraid of what? I’m the one who should be shaking, I’m the one who leaves the club and goes off to a strange hotel, and I’m not the one with the superior physical strength or the weapons. Men are very strange, and I don’t just mean the ones who come to Copacabana, but all the men I’ve ever met. They can beat you up, shout at you, threaten you, and yet they’re scared to death of women really. Perhaps not the woman they married, but there’s always one woman who frightens them and forces them to submit to their caprices. Even if it’s their own mother.
– From Paulo Coelho’s Eleven Minutes- a book chronicling the adventures of a prostitute in search of love, adventure and happiness.