Delusion detests focus and romance provides the veil. - Suzanne Finnamore, Split: A Memoir of Divorce

"Any way I slice reality it comes out poorly, and I feel an urge to not exist, something I have never felt before; and now here it comes with conviction, almost panic. 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."

"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."

"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."

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

"Take me now, God!"I shout to the inky sky. "I´m ready.""You´re not ready. You´re not even divorced yet,"Bunny says. "You cannot die married to that man."