“In the end, I am the only one who can give my children a happy mother who loves life.”

“Happiness was my choice, and though it is hard-won, I am the only person who can stand in the way of it.”

“I ask now, standing with my scissors among my flowers, Where can the shadow enter? [. . .] I am sick of the body, I am sick of my own craft, industry and cunning, of the unscrupulous ways of the mother who protects, who collects under her jealous eyes at one long table her own children, always her own.”

“Happy the mother who bears, happier still the biographer who records the life of such a one!”

“A friend. A companion. A beautiful, passionate lover to spend the days and nights with. A woman to carry my children, a partner to share the triumphs and failures. A woman I can share my dreams with, and who will share hers with me. A woman who I can comfort and hold in times of need, and who will hold me when I am weak , and sorrowful, and in need of the sort of succor only a wife can give her husband. A woman who I so desperately want to make love to. You, Lucy, you are that woman.”

“Who needs a fairytale? In the end, I only want to be happy with a guy I love, and who loves me just as much. That’s all I need.”