"Someday I will have revenge. I know in advance to keep this to myself, and everyone will be happier. I do understand that I am expected to forgive N and his girlfriend in a timely fashion, and move on to a life of vegetarian cooking and difficult yoga positions and self-realization, and make this so much easier and more pleasant for all concerned."
"How do you know? How best to ensure his nervous breakdown?"I ask."Keep going,"Christian says. "Just go on as if nothing has happened. We all hate that."
"He announces that lately he keeps losing things. "Like your wife and child,"I want to say, but don´t. At fourty, I´ve learned not to say everything clever, not to score every point."
"So many events and moments that seemed insignificant add up. I remember how for the last Valentine´s Day, N gave flowers but no card. In restaurants, he looked off into the middle distance while my hand would creep across the table to hold his. He would always let go first. I realize I can´t remember his last spontaneous gesture of affection."
"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."
"I used to loathe ambivalence; now I adore it. Ambivalence is my new best friend."