I was brought up among the sort of self-important women who had a husband as one has an alibi.

Good women always think it is their fault when someone else is being offensive. Bad women never take the blame for anything.

The self-fulfilled woman is far from reality.

That sun, that light had faded, and she had faded with them. Now she was as grey as the season itself.

Accountability in friendship is the equivalent of love without strategy.

For once a thing is known, it can never be unknown. It can only be forgotten.

A man of such obvious and exemplary charm must be a liar.