I think in general, novels by men tend to be taken more seriously than novels by women.

Foolish names and foolish faces often appear in public places.

If you knew where your happiness came from, it gave you patience. You realized that a lot of the time, you were just waiting out a situation, and that took the pressure off; you no longer looked to every interaction to actually do something for you.

But I never thought of who he wasn't, I never had to explain or defend him to myself, I didn't even care what we talked about.

I guess I consider myself at times to have intuition.

I feel like a lot of life is distasteful and embarrassing. And you just push through it. You fix what you can, and you let time pass.

Of course, I didn't imagine then that I could have had a real relationship with any guy. I thought that by virtue of being me I was disqualified.