When you’re in a relationship you get stuck playing out your different parts.
Try not to saddle yourself with too distinct a personality too early in life. It might not suit you later on.
There was something pathetic about the rejected wife bravely pulling herself together, joining a tennis club, doing a photography course, cutting her hair, venturing timidly back out onto the single scene.
The bills would keep on coming, no matter what else was happening in your life and that was good because it gave you a purpose. You worked so you could pay them. You rested on the weekends and generated more bills. Then you went back to work to pay for them. That was the reason for getting up tomorrow. That was the meaning of life.
Opinions were for other people. It was fascinating how upset they got about them.
Maybe it wasn’t that hard to be happy.
It was always like that. They never said sorry. They just threw down their still-loaded weapons, ready for next time.
He has mistakes in his past. I have mistakes in mine. The fact that we actually are each other’s mistakes is irrelevant!
Death was the hot bath you promised yourself while you endured small talk and uncomfortable shoes. You could stop pretending to have a good time when you were dead.