"I don't like cheap shots, I really don't"
About this Quote
A line like "I don't like cheap shots, I really don't" is less a confession of taste than a preemptive legal brief about credibility. Susan Estrich has spent decades in the combative ecosystems of politics and punditry, where the quickest way to win a segment is to question someone else's character and the quickest way to lose authority is to look like you wanted to. The sentence is built to solve that problem in real time.
The phrase "cheap shots" does double duty. It condemns a genre of attack as beneath the speaker while quietly reminding the audience that the speaker could take those shots if she chose. It's not pacifism; it's restraint as a flex. Then comes the small, telling repetition: "I really don't". That tag is doing emotional labor. It anticipates skepticism (because everyone expects the hit to follow) and tries to inoculate against it by leaning into sincerity. In TV and column culture, the audience isn't just judging the argument; they're judging the posture. Estrich is staking a posture: tough enough to spar, principled enough to claim the high road.
The subtext is often: I'm about to say something sharp, but you can't dismiss it as petty. It's a permission slip for critique framed as fairness. Contextually, it fits a moment when political commentary is accused of coarseness and personal animus. The line is a rhetorical seatbelt: worn not because the driver plans to crash, but because the road is built for collisions.
The phrase "cheap shots" does double duty. It condemns a genre of attack as beneath the speaker while quietly reminding the audience that the speaker could take those shots if she chose. It's not pacifism; it's restraint as a flex. Then comes the small, telling repetition: "I really don't". That tag is doing emotional labor. It anticipates skepticism (because everyone expects the hit to follow) and tries to inoculate against it by leaning into sincerity. In TV and column culture, the audience isn't just judging the argument; they're judging the posture. Estrich is staking a posture: tough enough to spar, principled enough to claim the high road.
The subtext is often: I'm about to say something sharp, but you can't dismiss it as petty. It's a permission slip for critique framed as fairness. Contextually, it fits a moment when political commentary is accused of coarseness and personal animus. The line is a rhetorical seatbelt: worn not because the driver plans to crash, but because the road is built for collisions.
Quote Details
| Topic | Respect |
|---|
More Quotes by Susan
Add to List



