You give her all your french fries, even when she won't give you back onion rings,' Sophie says. 'And when you say her name it sounds different.' How?' Sophie thinks. 'Like it's covered with blankets.

I look for places like me: big, hollow, forgotten by most everyone.

No child really chooses his religion; it is just the luck of the draw which blanket of beliefs you are wrapped in.

I've been an idiot to think that real life could have a happy ending

When it's all over, you're remembered for what you did, not what you said you were going to do.

Maybe you expected marriage to be perfect - I guess that's where you and I are different. See, I thought it would be all about making mistakes, but doing it with someone who's there to remind you what you learned along the way.

I cannot admit this out loud. In the first place, we are expected to be supermoms these days, instead of admitting that we have flaws. It is tempting to believe that all mothers wake up feeling fresh every morning, never raise their voices, only cook with organic food, and are equally at ease with the CEO and the PTA.