Money is wasted on the rich.
Mom. Stepdad. A half sister born when I was in college, her existence so unreal to me I often forgot her name. Amma. And then Marian, always long-gone Marian.
Mi smo prva ljudska bića koja ništa neće vidjeti prvi put. Zurimo u svjetska čuda tupim očima, bez ikakva oduševljenja. Mona Lisa, piramide, Empire State Building. Napad životinja iz džungle, prastare...
Len never said hello as a greeting; he said something like a yodel, He-a-lo!
Kissi frowned ar him, then looked at me for explanation. I widened my eyes, grimaced: the look women give each other when they're embarrassed of the men they're with.
I’m not someone who can be depended on five days a week. Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday? I don’t even get out of bed five days in a row—I often don’t remember to eat five days in a row.
I’ll be interested to hear what the swine has to say for himself, he says. Desi rarely says jackfuck or shitbag; he says swine, which sounds more poisonous on his lips.
I’d tried all my life to be a decent guy, a man who loved and respected women, a guy without hang-ups. And here I was, thinking nasty thoughts about my twin, about my mother-in-law, about my mistress....
I’d always liked our inside jokes the best—they made me feel more connected to Amy than any amount of confessional truth-telling or passionate lovemaking or talk-till-sunrising.
It’s a very difficult era in which to be a person, just a real, actual person, instead of a collection of personality traits selected from an endless Automat of characters. And
It was kind of her to say, but he did do harm. I doubt my sister will ever marry: If she’s sad or upset or angry, she needs to be alone – she fears a man dismissing her womanly tears.
It is from Costco. I have learned about bulk shopping in my four weeks as a Mississippi River resident. Republicans go to Sam’s Club, Democrats go to Costco. But everyone buys bulk
In truth, I wanted her to read my mind so I didn’t have to stoop to the womanly art of articulation.
If she were alive, someone would need to return her. If she were dead, nature would have to give her up.
I'm a big fan of the lie of omission.
I'd never noticed him anywhere near the pool, but he knew my swimwear cold, which was flattering and alarming at the same time.
I would rather be a librarian, but I worry about the job security. Books may be temporary; dicks are forever. The
I was hoping Betsy Nash would disappear. Literally. She was so insubstantial, I could imagine her slowly evaporating, leaving only a sticky spot on the edge of the sofa. But she lingered, eyes darting...
I sometimes wonder if that is at the root of his distaste for me: He’s let me see his shortcomings, and he hates me for knowing them.
I realized I was humming Uncle John’s Band to myself for no good reason.