The road to hell is paved with leeks and potatoes

But hard bitten cynicism leaves one feeling peevish, and too much of it can do lasting damage to your heart.

I got my undergrad in Creative Writing, and then I didn't get my Masters in obsession, because I figured I already had that covered.

Two years ago, I was a twenty-nine year old secretary. Now I am a thirty-one year old writer. I get paid very well to sit around in my pajamas and type on my ridiculously fancy iMac, unless I'd rather take a nap. Feel free to hate me -- I certainly would.

It's sad, but a relief as well, to know that two things so closely bound together can separate with so little violence.

Doors are going to open-doors you can't even imagine exist.

Sometimes, if you want to be happy, you've got to run away to Bath and marry a punk rocker. Sometimes you've got to dye your hair cobalt blue, or wander remote islands in Sicily, or cook your way through Mastering the Art of French Cooking in a year, for no very good reason.