Sometimes it seems safer to hold it all in, where the only person who can judge is yourself.

How it seemed like you could see everything, but certain things were blocked out, hidden.

My dad is a retired Shakespeare professor, my mother a retired classicist. Suffice to say I grew up in a house full of books, where reading was encouraged if not required.

It took a lot of work to be perfect. If you didn’t want to break a sweat, there was no point in even bothering.

I wasn't very happy in high school: it was a confusing and sort of sad time for me.

Morgan sighed. "I," she announced, "am so pathetic." "You are not," I said. "I am." She went over and straightened the cling wrap, corner to corner. "Do you know how many times I've brought in devilled eggs? This is, like, the only time I haven't been sobbing and that's only 'cause I cried all night. And Norman," she said, her voice rising to a wail, "sweet Norman, always just acts so surprised to see the eggs, and pleased, and he never, once, has ever acted like he knew what they meant."

Look. We both know life is short, Macy. Too short to waste a single second with anyone who doesn't appreciate and value you.