My father was a patriarch inside a matriarchy, but never knew it.

Writing is a refuge from unhappiness, but has its own sorrows.

Everyone makes sexy sounds; relatively few, sexy sights.

The aphorism offers a momentary sense of mastery over some confusion or unhappiness.

I would enjoy experiencing the hollowness of success at first- hand.

To avoid taking responsibility, I become unresponsive but hang on until the other person leaves me.

Conscious thought is the tidying up at the end.