Whenever I sign books, I get this line over and over again from men: "I don't read fiction, but my wife does. Would you sign the book to her?" What are those men doing there? And where are their wives?

In effect, painting is the still memory of [the artist's] human motion, and our individual responses to it depend on who we are, on our character, which underlines the simple truth that no person leaves himself behind in order to look at a painting.

Crippled and crazy, we hobble toward the finish line, pen in hand.

Great books are the ones that are urgent, life-changing, the ones that crack open the reader’s skull and heart.

I will turn human anatomy into roses and stars and sea. I will dissect the beloveds body in metaphor.

Widowers marry again because it makes their lives easier. Widows often don't, because it makes their lives harder. [p. 61]

The old story is true:Women have to be less emotional than men.