“Until-as often happened during those first months travel, whenever I would feel such happiness-my guilt alarm went off. I heard my ex-husband's voice speaking disdainfully in my ear: So this is what you gave up everything for? This is why you gutted our entire life together? For a few stalks of asparagus and an Italian newspaper? I replied aloud to him: "First of all," I said, "I'm very sorry, but this isn't your business anymore. And secondly, to answer you question...yes.”
“Whenever I feel afraid I hold my head erect and whistle a happy tune.”
“But don’t let them talk you into anything you don’t feel comfortable with.”“They’re my friends.”“So what?” He shrugged. “If your friends walked off a cliff, would you do it too?”“Why would they walk off a cliff?” I asked in alarm. “Is someone having problems at home?”
“Whenever I was asked what I wanted my first impulse was to answer "Nothing." The thought went through my mind that it didn't make any difference, that nothing was going to make me happy.”
“I let the feeling wash over me, and then I dried off with a fur coat and went for a walk on my unicycle.”