She was afraid, and the afraid, she realized, sought opportunities for bravery in love.

Writers have no real area of expertise. They are merely generalists with a highly inflamed sense of punctuation.

They had, finally, the only thing anyone really wants in life: someone to hold your hand when you die.

You are unhappy because you believe in such a thing as happy.

Surely that was why faith had been invented: to raise teenagers without dying. Although of course it was also why death was invented: to escape teenagers altogether.

Plots are for dead people.

After a childhood of hungering to be an adult, my hunger had passed. Unexpected fates had begun to catch my notice. These middle-aged women seemed very tired to me, as if hope had been wrung out of them and replaced with a deathly, walking sort of sleep.