I just think some women aren't made to be mothers. And some women aren't made to be daughters.

There’s something disturbing about recalling a warm memory and feeling utterly cold.

It’s a very difficult era in which to be a person, just a real, actual person, instead of a collection of personality traits selected from an endless Automat of characters.

To me, marriage is the ultimate mystery.

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 was raised feral, and I mostly stayed that way.

My mother had always told her kids: if you're about to do something, and you want to know if it's a bad idea, imagine seeing it printed in the paper for all the world to see.