To refuse has so many more consequences than submitting.

Dark sides are important. They should be nurtured like nasty black orchids.

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.

She released her grievances like handfuls of birdseed: They are there, and they are gone.

I can't think of anything more crushing than slowly, over time, realizing exactly how wrong you were about someone.

I grew up in the '80s where there's a lot of these kind of post-apocalyptic, post-comet, post-whatever it was, so that always captured my imagination a lot as a little kid, that idea of getting access to secret places and being able to roam around where you're not supposed to.

Friends see most of each other’s flaws. Spouses see every awful last bit.