But day after day of depression, the kind that doesn’t seem to merit carting me off to a hospital but allows me to sit here on this stoop in summer camp as if I were normal, day after day wearing down everybody who gets near me. My behavior seems, somehow, not acute enough for them to know what to do with me, though I’m just enough of a mess to be driving everyone around me crazy.

Divorce has taught us how to sleep with friends, sleep with enemies, and then act like it's all perfectly normal in the morning.

I don't think it matters how many parents you've got, as long as those who are around make their presence a good one.

It's like Samson and Delilah: watch your back, because trouble could be the person you're sleeping with.

Sometimes I wish I could walk around with a HANDLE WITH CARE sign stuck to my forehead.

The most likely person to kill you is your wife, but that probably won't happen. What probably will happen is a million little betrayals of varying degrees of pain, brought on by people you love, the only ones who really can hurt you.

I am sick of the girl who cries 'wolf' all the time. Even though not one of those cries was ever a false alarm