“... I began to ponder; this life we had for ourselves, Eric and I, it felt like the opposite of Potage Parmentier. It was easy enough to keep on with the soul-sucking jobs; at least it saved having to make a choice. But how much longer could I take such an easy life? Quicksand was easy. Hell, death was easy. Maybe that's why my synapses had started snapping at the sight of potatoes and leeks in the Korean deli. Maybe that was what was plucking deep down in my belly whenever I thought of Julia Child's book. Maybe I needed to make like a potato, winnow myself down, be a part of something that was not easy, just simple.”
“Maybe I needed to make like a potato, winnow myself down, be part of something that was not easy, just simple.”
“It was like that part of my life, was just gone. It was almost too easy, for something I once thought had meant everything.”
“And I can't die easy thinking maybe the menfolks white or black is making a spit cup out of you. Have some sympathy for me. Put me down easy, Janie, I'm a cracked plate.”
“Maybe if I had to boil it down to one easy sentence, it would be this: I believe in evolution, and I believe in God. I just haven't worked out the details yet.”
“Maybe he thinks wild translates into easy, Ryder said.Or maybe he likes wild, I responded.Maybe, but I bet he thinks you’re easy.You’re killing my moment, Ryder. OK, be happy he thinks you’re easy.”