Because isn’t that the point of every relationship: to be known by someone else, to be understood? He gets me. She gets me. Isn’t that the simple magic phrase?

Republicans go to Sam’s Club, Democrats go to Costco.

I assumed everything bad in the world could happen, because everything bad in the world already did happen.

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

She’s easy to like. I’ve never understood why that’s considered a compliment - that just anyone could like you.

I was not a lovable child, and I'd grown into a deeply unlovable adult. Draw a picture of my soul, and it'd be a scribble with fangs.

Sometimes I think illness sits inside every woman, waiting for the right moment to bloom. I have known so many sick women all my life. Women with chronic pain, with ever-gestating diseases. Women with conditions. Men, sure, they have bone snaps, they have backaches, they have a surgery or two, yank out a tonsil, insert a shiny plastic hip. Women get consumed.