There’s a difference between really loving someone and loving the idea of her.
Love makes you want to be a better man—right, right. But maybe love, real love, also gives you permission to just be the man you are.
I don’t understand the point of being together if you’re not the happiest.
Because isn’t that the point of every relationship: to be known by someone else, to be understood? He gets me. She gets me. Isn’t that the simple magic phrase?
…and you drink a little too much and try a little too hard. And you go home to a cold bed and think, ‘That was fine’. And your life is a long line of fine.
My dad had limitations. That’s what my good-hearted mom always told us. He had limitations, but he meant no harm. It was kind of her to say, but he did do harm.
Sometimes I think I won’t ever feel safe until I can count my last days on one hand.
Tampon commercial, detergent commercial, maxi pad commercial, windex commercial – you’d think all women do is clean and bleed.
If I say I don’t want to read the book, I don’t want to read the book.
Something bad was about to happen. My wife was being clever again.
Can you imagine, finally showing your true self to your spouse, your soul mate, and having him not like you?
I am not angry or sad or happy to see you. I could not give a shit. You don’t even ripple.
Desi has loved me ever since the lie, I know he pictures making love to me, how gentle and reassuring he would be as he plunged into me, stroking my hair. I know he pictures me crying softly as I give myself to him.
You’re sexist. I’m so sick of liberal lefty men practicing sexual discrimination under the guise of protecting women against sexual discrimination.
They always call depression the blues, but I would have been happy to waken to a periwinkle outlook. Depression to me is urine yellow, washed out, exhausted miles of weak piss.
Sometimes I think I won’t ever feel safe until I can count my last days on one hand. Three more days to get through until I don’t have to worry about life anymore.
I don’t feel the need to explain my actions to her. I don’t clarify, I don’t doubt, I don’t worry. I don’t tell her everything, not anymore, but I tell her more than anyone else, by far. I tell her as much as I can.
Like walking through a door. Our relationship immediately attained a sepia tone: the past.
I am overachieving at aimlessness, I am a type-A, alpha-girl lollygagger, the leader of a gang of heartbroken kids, running wild across this lonely strip of amusements, each of us smarting from the betrayals of a loved one.
Compromise, communicate, and never go to bed angry – the three pieces of advice gifted and regifted to all newlyweds.
I am, after all, an adult, a grown man, a useful human being, even though I lost the career that made me all these things. I won’t make that mistake again.
She released her grievances like handfuls of birdseed: They are there, and they are gone.
He wears his cockiness like an ironic T-shirt, but it fits him better.
It was one of the few stories we told the same way.
We were born in the ’70s, back when twins were rare, a bit magical: cousins of the unicorn, siblings of the elves.
Sleep is like a cat: It only comes to you if you ignore it. I drank more and continued my mantra. ‘Stop thinking’, swig, ’empty your head’, swig, ‘now, seriously empty your head’.
Ever been in a spelling bee as a kid? That snowy second after the announcement of the word as you sift your brain to see if you can spell it? It was like that, the blank panic.
what are you thinking, Amy? How are you feeling? Who are you? What have we ddone to each other? What will we do?
One should never marry a man who doesn’t own a decent set of scissors.
I still believed he’d love me again somehow, love me that intense, thick way he did, the way that made everything good.
Amy! My God! My God! My darling!’ and buried my face in her neck, my arms wrapped tight around her, and let the cameras get their fifteen seconds, and I whispered deep inside her ear, ‘You fucking bitch.
All of a sudden you see reading in bed and waffles on Sunday and laughing at nothing and his mouth on yours. And it’s so far beyond fine that you know you can never go back to fine.
We just want you to be happy. Rand and Marybeth said that all the time, but they never explained how.
You can like an immoral character because she’s interesting, not because you want to have her over for dinner.
… it’s a nice day’s work when you make a lot of people smile.
Things might not be great, but things would be okay.
A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort.
There will be days you wish you’d never done it. And thosewill be the good times, when it’s only days of regret and notmonths.
So are there any asshole guys here I can start dating?’ she says. ‘That’s, like, my pattern.
The man cocked his gun and Patty had time for one last thought: I wish, I wish, I wish I could take this back.
Don’t fret, we’ll sort this out: the true and the not true and the might as well be true.
I’m just tired of people judging me because I fit into a certain mold.
It had gotten to the point where it seemed like nothing matters, because I’m not a real person and neither is anyone else.
I always feel sad for the girl that I was, because it never occurred to me that my mother might comfort me. She has never told me she loved me, and I never assumed she did. She tended to me. She administrated me.
Lately, I’ve been leaning towards kindness.- Camille Preaker
Blame the economy, blame bad luck, blame my parents, blame your parents, blame the Internet, blame people who use the Internet.
She blew more smoke toward me, a lazy game of cancer catch.