How can I grieve what is still in motion?" I ask her. "Shoes are still dropping all over the place. I´m not kidding, " I say. "It´s Normandy out there.

My mother is a firm believer in the long pause, useful in interrogations, proclamations of truth, and the occasional cutting dead of someone without their knowing it.

Delusion detests focus and romance provides the veil.

I mentally bless and exonerate anyone who has kicked a chair out from beneath her or swallowed opium in large chunks. My mind has met their environment, here in the void. I understand perfectly.

In so many senseless deaths, beauty is to blame.

Why is edamame always ready to expire? It´s so urgent for a vegetable. Edamame. It sounds like an assisted form of suicide. Is there an advertising concept in this?

I used to loathe ambivalence now I adore it. Ambivalence is my new best friend.

The snag about marriage is, it isn´t worth the divorce.

They feel life is for the taking, and that everyone deserves happiness no matter what the cost. I must remember these tricks if I ever decide to have my soul surgically removed.

Surprises, I feel now, are primarily a form of violence.

I love you as the mother of my child": the kiss of death.Mother of His Child: demotion. I am beginning to see this truism: Mothers are not always wives. I have been stripped of a piece of self.

Do what you love or die a slow death doing what you hate

Life is not only consisted of "yes" and "no", but a lot of "yes and's" and "no but's".

Get Fired Up About Your Life Because If You Don't Who Will?

Among precautions against ambition, it may not be amiss to take precautions against our own. I must fairly say, I dread our own power and our own ambition: I dread our being too much dreaded.

Instead of trying to educate the human race, they should imitate the pedagogues of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, who concentrated their efforts on the education of a single person.

There was a male sketch group in my college. I was like why isn't there a female sketch group? So then I started doing sketch comedy and all that stuff. It just happened.

Sage?" Adrian lightly touched my arm, and I jumped at the feel of his fingertips against my skin. "You okay?" "I don't know," I said softly. "I just thought of something crazy." "Welcome to my world.

How could you be from the ghetto and be a rat?

Close friends love you for who you are; not what they want you to be.

It's just like with people. You're going to get along better working with them - human or equine - if you ask politely rather than demand that they do things.