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.

The nice thing about having a friend who is crazier than you are is that she bolsters your belief in your own sanity.

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

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.

Physically it's exhausting to cook every night. Existentially speaking, I have so much more energy having that time to myself in this project, this gift to myself at the end of the day. Even if it didn't go smoothly, it was still a gift.

Maybe I needed to make like a potato, winnow myself down, be part of something that was not easy, just simple.