The first person who ever told me that happiness was work was this manic-depressive artist I knew when I was in my 20s. I was like, 'What are you talking about? Happiness just happens. That's even the root of that word. How could it be work?

I've never been socially outgoing, but I suspect I've gotten more and more ambivalent about making new friends. I'm irritated by how-do-you-do chit-chat, but that's how new relationships usually begin.

Some caregivers want to reciprocate the care they themselves received as children.

A lot of positive psychology is stuck in being the psychology of privilege, and I reject that.

In my experience, staying in a marriage that my ex and I both agreed had all its best moments behind it was epically depressing.

I always do like seeing other people dance in their cars. It's one of the things that makes me happy.

The last introvert in a world of extroverts. Silence: my response to both emptiness and saturation. But silence frightens people. I had to learn how to talk. Out of politeness.