Suzanne Finnamore

“I remember one desolate Sunday night, wondering: Is this how I´m going to spend the rest of my life? Marrid to someone who is perpetually distracted and somewhat wistful, as though a marvelous party is going on in the next room, which but for me he could be attending?”

“A heart can stop beating for a while, one can still live.”

“My mind floats like ash. I blame myself most cruelly.”

“The abandonment came, and now this shabby bacchanal.”

“This is much worse than losing a cat. You do not wish the cat dead, for example, after the first two days. You still love the cat and presumably the cat still loves you, or some variation of love that may in fact be dependence and even indifference.”

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