I was told love should be unconditional. That's the rule, everyone says so. But if love has no boundaries, no limits, no conditions, why should anyone try to do the right thing ever? If I know I am lo...
The far side of the room, the anagram
This is unacceptable … no more coffee, thanks
The little brown house was my father’s house, which was actually blue, but Amy was making another inside joke. I’d always liked our inside jokes the best – they made me feel more connected to Amy than...
So you swallow your disappointment and say okay.
People want passion. People want a sense of purpose.
Our kind of love can go into remission, but it's always waiting to return. Like the world's sweetest cancer.
One should never marry a man who doesn't own a decent set of scissors.
Millions of dollars later, and neither of them were happy. Money is wasted on the rich. We
Marrow-deep embarrassment, the kind that becomes part of your DNA, that changes you.
I’ve actually felt sad for myself, picturing my slim, naked, pale body, floating just beneath the current, a colony of snails attached to one bare leg, my hair trailing like seaweed until I reach the...
It was him. The boy in ‘I met a boy!
It is now two million square feet of echo.
It is always consoling to think of suicide;it's what gets one through many a bad night.
If ifs and buts were candies and nuts we’d all have a very Merry Christmas,
If he knew I was doing a year from now already, he’d run and I’d be obliged to cheer him on.)
Her mind was both wide and deep, and I got smarter being with her. And more considerate, and more active, and more alive, and almost electric, because for Amy, love was like drugs or booze or porn: Th...
Es ist ein Unterschied, ob man einen Menschen wirklich liebt oder nur die Idee von ihm.
Camille? Her voice quiet and girlish and unsure. You know how people sometimes say they have to hurt because if they don't, they're so numb they won't feel anything?Mmm.What if it's the opposite? Amma...
At that exact moment, 6-0-0, the sun climbed over the skyline of oaks, revealing its full summer angry-god self. Its reflection flared across the river toward our house, a long, blaring finger aimed at m...