The condom broke. I know how stupid that sounds. It's the reproductive version of the dog ate my homework.

The idea you can tell a writer of a specific religion to stop writing about that religion is presumptuous.

I can carry a tune with a three-note range. Once I'm out of that range, I'm in trouble.

The way I see it,” she began, “your mother’s devoted her whole life to you kids.” She said “you kids” in precisely the same tone I would have used for “you infestation of cockroaches

Every mother I've ever met, pretty much without exception, is doing the best job she can ever do.

Is it still there?" I asked, staring at his head, bent over, as he wedged the stethoscope beneath my left breast. And then, before I could stop myself, "Does it sound broken?

Divorce isn't such a tragedy. A tragedy's staying in an unhappy marriage, teaching your children the wrong things about love. Nobody ever died of divorce.