I had this fantastic notion. I took the Xanax and the Ritalin together. It had never occurred to me!
I've stayed alive for you. But now you have to let me go.
I don't think two people could have been happier than we've been.
Do you think it's possible that bad writing actually attracts a higher incidence of error?
Why do I always have to sit next to the exes? Is this some kind of a hint, sweetheart? And anyway, shouldn't the exes have a table of their own where they can all ex together in ex-quisite agony?
All my life I could do everything. I could do anything, really. Except the one thing I wanted.
The day I left him I got on a train and made my way across Europe. I felt free for the first time in years.
Your aunt is a very lucky woman, Angelica. She has two lives. She has the life she is leading and also the books she is writing.
They're all here, aren't they? All the ghosts... All the ghosts are assembling for the party!
The thought of this life, that's what kept me going. I had an idea of our happiness.
So that's the monster.