I’m not mad because I’m a woman, I say. I’m mad because you’re an asshole.
It's the forties look, she says to George, hand on her hip, doing a pirouette. Rosie the Riveter. From the war. Remember her?George, whose name is not really George, does not remember. He spent the fo...
It's strange to remember how we used to think, as if everything were available to us, as if there were no contingencies, no boundaries; as if we were free to shape and reshape forever the ever—expandi...
It's strange to remember how we used to think, as if everything were available to us, as if there were no contingencies, no boundaries; as if we were free to shape and reshape forever the everexpandin...
It's somewhat daunting to reflect that Hell is -- possibly -- the place where you are stuck in your own personal narrative for ever, and Heaven is -- possibly -- the place where you can ditch it, and...
It's impossible to say a thing exactly the way it was, because what you say can never be exact, you always have to leave something out, there are too many parts, sides, crosscurrents, nuances; too man...
It's always an imprudence to step between a man and the reflection of his own cleverness.
It would be nice to believe that love should be dished out in a fair way so that everyone got some. But that wasn't how it was going to be for me.
It was after the catastrophe, when they shot the president and machine-gunned the Congress and the army declared a state of emergency. They blamed it on the Islamic fanatics, at the time. Keep calm, t...
It is spring, and the night windis moist with the smell of turned loamand the early flowers;the moon pours out its beautywhich you see as beauty finally, warm and offering everything.You have only to...
It is always a mistake to curse back openly at those who are stronger than you unless there is a fence between.
Is that all there is? they must be thinking. Shouldn't it be less ordinary, more sordid, more epic, more truly harrowing, this flesh wound of your? Tell us more! Couldn't we please crank up the pain?
Is it disapproval or extreme lust? Toby wonders. With some men it’s hard to tell the difference.
In reduced circumstances the desire to live attaches itself to strange objects. I would like a pet: a bird, say, or a cat. A familiar. Anything at all familiar.
In Heaven, there are no debts - all have been paid, one way or another - but in Hell there's nothing but debts, and a great deal of payment is exacted, though you can't ever get all paid up. You have...
Ignoring isn't the same as ignorance, you have to work at it.
If you can call it talking, these clipped whispers, projected through the funnels of our white wings. It’s more like a telegram, a verbal semaphore. Amputated speech.
If it's a story I'm telling, then I have control over the ending...But if it's a story, even in my head, I must be telling it to someone.You don't tell a story only to yourself. There's always someone...
I'm a fool, to confuse this with goodness. I am not good.I know too much to be good. I know myself.I know myself to be vengeful, greedy, secretive and sly.
I was nervous. How was I to know he loved me? It might be just an affair. Why did we ever say just? Though at that time men and women tried each other on, casually, like suits, rejecting whatever did...