More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
What’s good stays good no matter how much of a beating it takes.”
She breathed deeply of the scent of decaying fiction, disintegrating history, and forgotten verse, and she observed for the first time that a room full of books smelled like dessert: a sweet snack made of figs, vanilla, glue, and cleverness.
She thought of mothering, which was really another word for being present and caring what happened to someone.
She’d thought love had something to do with happiness, but it turned out they were not even vaguely related. Love was closer to a need, no different from the need to eat, to breathe.
She wanted to start a website, a public-awareness campaign, a newsletter, to get the word out that if you were a woman and you had a child, you lost everything, you would be held hostage by love: a terrorist who would only be satisfied when you surrendered your entire future.
Sooner or later a black car came for everyone. It came and took you away from your loved ones, and you never got to go back.
She wished she were not so aware of the vast gulf between what the men in her life thought she was worth and her actual value.

