We pay for security with boredom, for adventure with bother.

We turned on one another deep, drowned gazes, and exchanged a kiss that reduced my bones to rubber and my brain to gruel.

Before the mind snaps, or the heart breaks, it gather itself like a clock about to strike. It might even be said one pulls himself together to disintegrate.

Gluttony is an emotional escape, a sign something is eating us.

A suburban mother's role is to deliver children obstetrically once, and by car forever after.

The trouble with treating people as equals is that the first thing you know they may be doing the same thing to you.

Look at it this way: Psychoanalysis is a permanent fad.