She had willed herself open to him and knew that the chemistry of love was all within her, her doing. Even his power to wound her with neglect was a … - John Updike

All love is betrayal, in that it flatters life. The loveless man is best armed.

Women: you never know which side they want to dance on.

[Nelson, about Pru] She had complained for years about living with his mother and Ronnie and about his dead-end job babysitting these pathetic dysfunctionals, boosting his own ego at their expense, caring more about them than he did about his own wife and children, but what it boiled down to in his baffled mind was something she once shouted, her green eyes bright as broken glass in her reddened face: My life with you is too small. Too small. As if being a greaseball lawyer's input organiser and easy lay was bigger. But the size of a life is how you feel about it.