Men should only believe half of what women say. But which half?

The dramatist Jean Giraudoux, with a tongue both playful and piercing, declared: “Men should only believe half of what women say. But which half?” Though draped in wit, this saying conceals a deeper truth of the ages—that the mystery of woman cannot be measured by reason alone, and the folly of man lies in his endless attempt to grasp it. In this paradox, the playwright gives voice to the eternal dance between the sexes, where certainty slips like water through the hand.

The ancients themselves spoke of this enigma. The Greeks told of the oracle at Delphi, whose prophecies rang with riddles that confounded kings. The words of women, like the words of the oracle, often carry not only what is spoken, but what lies beneath. To hear is one thing, to understand another. And the question—“which half?”—reveals the greater lesson: wisdom lies not in doubting women, but in knowing that truth often comes clothed in mystery.

This saying also unveils the frailty of human perception. Man seeks clarity, yet life itself seldom grants it. Women’s words here become a symbol of life’s riddles, full of light and shadow, of jest and sincerity interwoven. Just as the sailor must learn to read the winds, so must the listener learn to hear beyond the surface. To demand certainty in all things is to miss the richness of the hidden half.

Yet, beneath the humor, there is reverence. For the very impossibility of knowing which half to believe elevates women’s voices beyond easy judgment. It reminds man that wisdom is not dominance, but humility—the recognition that not all truths are his to dissect. The mystery itself becomes the teaching, urging him to listen with patience, respect, and an open heart.

Let future generations remember: the words of women, like the words of fate, are not to be halved and measured with crude scales. They are to be honored, pondered, and sometimes embraced even in their uncertainty. For it is not the certainty of speech that guides the soul, but the depth of its meaning. Thus, the jest of Giraudoux becomes a timeless truth: the mystery of the other is not to be solved, but cherished, as the riddle that keeps life alive.