So what do I have to confess? I do have one weakness big enough to write a book about. My weakness is people. Since I have never taken the direct route from anywhere to anywhere, I've had time to meet and listen to a lot of people. Back in the twenties, when everybody was talking at the same time, I was one of the few professional listeners aroud.
I've been asked: "When you hung out with people like George S. Kaufman, Marc Connelly, Harold Ross, Sam Behrman, Ben Hecht, Heywood Broun, F.P.A., Dorothy Parker, Ethel Barrymore, Benchley, Swope and Woollcott, what in the world did you find to talk about?" The answer is simple. When I was around people like that, there was no use talking. I listened.
For some reason, they all accepted me. I think it was because I accepted them, not as Very Important Persons or geniuses, but as card players, pool sharks, croquet fanatics, parlor-game addicts, storytellers, or practical jokers—whatever they had the most fun doing when they weren't working.
I think it's very resonating, no?
Are there any biographies you've read or been reading that have some very INFJ/introvert moments?