The world went on, as it does, without my full participation, and I only woke up from the reverie when someone said my name.

The risen sun too bright in her losing eyes.

I couldn't hear a thing in the world but you. And it was so cold then, and so silent, and I loved you so much. Now it's hot and dead quiet again, and I love you still.

You can’t divorce Margo the person from Margo the body. You can’t see one without seeing the other. You looked at Margo’s eyes and you saw both their blueness and their Margo-ness. In the end, you could not say that Margo Roth Spiegelman was fat, or that she was skinny, any more than you can say that the Eiffel Tower is or is not lonely. Margo’s beauty was a kind of sealed vessel of perfection – uncracked and uncrackable.

My inner goddess is doing the merengue with some salsa moves.

I said nothing—I hadn’t known Marya, and anyway, “listening quietly” was my general social strategy

It's hard to get movie studios to pay a lot of money for movies that don't have robots or explosions.