I ached once, hard, like a period typed at the end of a sentence.

I've always been partial to the image of liquor as lubrication, a layer of protection from all the sharp thoughts in your head.

I waited patiently - years - for the pendulum to swing the other way, for men to start reading Jane Austen, learn how to knit, pretend to love cosmos, organize scrapbook parties, and make out with each other while we leer. And then we'd say, Yeah, he's a Cool Guy.

Tampon commercial, detergent commercial, maxi pad commercial, windex commercial - you'd think all women do is clean and bleed.

It’s humbling, to become the very thing you once mocked.

Give me a man with a little fight in him, a man who calls me on my bullshit. (But who also kind of likes my bullshit.)

Nick is like a good stiff drink: He gives everything the correct perspective.