Occupation: Author Birth: 1965
People belong to each other only as long as they both believe. He stopped believing..
And that's when he finally tells me his name is Ernest. I'm thinking of giving it away, though. Ernest is so dull, and Hemingway? Who wants a Hemingw….
You have to digest life. You have to chew it up and love it all through..
It was our favorite part of the day, this in-between time, and it always seemed to last longer than it should--a magic and lavender space unpinned fr….
My life was my life; I would have to stare it down, somehow, and make it work for me..
Not everyone out in a storm wants to be saved.
I miss good old-fashioned honorable people just trying to make something of life. Simply, without hurting anyone else. I know that makes me a sap..
If I can write one sentence, simple and true every day, I'll be satisfied..
Nothing hurts if you don't let it..
More and more I find myself at a loss for words and didn't want to hear other people talking either. Their conversations seemed false and empty. I pr….
... and yet he could also be very charming, in a bookish, infinitely apologetic way..
Knowing he was suffering pained me. That’s the way love tangles you up. I couldn’t stop loving him, and couldn’t shut off the feelings of wanting to ….
I also liked to look around at the houses surrounding the park and wonder about the people who filled them, what kinds of marriages they had and how ….
All that was left for me was a terrible kind of paralysis, this waiting game, this heartbreak game..
I preferred to look at the sea, which said nothing and never made you feel alone..
I didn't want to be a sweet boy's sweet girlfriend. I wanted to be Fawn's equal, the kind of girl who stood up for herself and took care of business,….
I knew that I could hate him all I wanted for the way he was hurting me, but I couldn’t ever stop loving him, absolutely, for what he was..
On December 8, 1921, when the Leopoldina set sail for Europe, we were on board. Our life together had finally begun. We held on to each other and loo….
I hope we'll get lucky enough to grow old together..
At twenty-eight I'd had a handful of beaux, but had only been in love once, and that had been awful enough to make me doubt men and myself for a good….
In Paris, you couldn't really turn around without seeing the result of lovers' bad decisions. An artist given to sexual excess was almost a cliché, b….