I Hate Weddings,' She Says. 'they Make

I Don't Have Any Real Goals Except To Follow One Good Sentence With Another... I'm Not The Kind Of Writer Who Has A Map.

He Gives Me A Kiss That Barely Touches My Lips – It Means Nothing Or Everything. After He’s Gone, I Think, Happy Birthday To Me. Jack Says, ‘that Was The Guy?’ ‘that Was Him.’ Jake Shakes His Head. ‘what?’ ‘he’s Not For You,’ He Says. I Say, ‘how Do You Know?’ But What I Mean Is, How Do You Know? ‘he’s Like Ashley Wilkes,’ He Says. ‘any One Of These Guys Is Rhett-ier Than He Is.’ Again, I Ask My Benignly Inflected, ‘how Do You Know?’ ‘how Do I Know?’ He Says, Tackling Me Into A Bear Hug. ‘how Do I Know? I Know, That’s How I Know.

You Don't Need A Reason To Forgive... If You Want To Go On With Someone, That Is What You Do.

With So Much Sky And So Much River, You Couldn't Help Seeing The Big Picture. It Was What You Already Knew, But Crowding Into The Subway Or Rushing To A Movie, You Only Saw It For A Second, And Close Up. Now I Took A Good Long Look. I'd Always Heard You Couldn't See Stars In Manhattan Because Of All The Lights. But Here They All Were. Here Was My Night In Shining Armor.

Nice,' I Say, Realizing Only Afterward That I've Mimicked Her, A Bad Habit Of Mine; I'm Like One Of Those Animals That Imitates Its Predators To Survive.