After was better. Before was only there so After could happen.

Not crazy in a 'let's paint the kitchen bright red!' sort of way. But crazy in a 'gas oven, toothpaste sandwich, I am God' sort of way. Gone were the days when she would stand on the deck lighting lemon-scented candles without then having to eat the wax.p28

I always tried to learn Greek, but all I got out of it was, "poulaki mou." ["My little chicken."]

I could write another collection of personal essays from what has happened to me in the last year alone. I don't seek out my material - it finds me. I am magnetic, somehow.

There's never a false note in a Berg novel.

There's not enough of me left over.

I was in advertising for years. That was cushy, you know? It's pretty cushy in a lot of ways, but I hated it.