Envy was just the tax you paid on success.

Failure and unhappiness is easier because you can make a joke out of it.

I work three days at home, and two days in the British Library or the London Library, just to get out of the house and hide from the children.

He has found himself more and more reliant on her at exactly the point that she has become less available to him.

I love him, she thought. I'm just not in love with him and also I don't love him. I've tried, I've strained to love him but I can't. I am building a life with a man I don't love, and I don't know what to do about it.

I am not up to this. I am not capable. I thought I would be, but I'm not. Some part of me is missing, and I cannot do this.

He's wearing his official university sweatshirt again, which puzzles me a little. I mean I'd sort of understand it more if it said Yale or Harvard or something, because then it would be a fashion choice. But why advertise the fact that you're at a university to all the other people who are at the university with you?