“It’s one thing to protect yourself,” Dad yelled at me during our very next lunch. “That I get. Have I ever told you not to defend yourself? No. But did you have to permanently maim him? I spent all that money on that on that fancy school for girls-not to mention all that money for the shrinks-and what did that get me?”I shrugged. “A seven-figure civil suit?”

“I have a question. What if your advice doesn't help me? Do I get my money back?""No, because as soon as you pay me, I run right out and spend it. That's one of the first things they teach you in medical school!”

“Does he make you happy?""Sure", I said.He told me I didn't know what real happiness was. "You have to shrink yourself to fit into this little life with him.”

“When I was a girl, my life was music that was always getting louder. Everything moved me. A dog following a stranger. That made me feel so much. A calendar that showed the wrong month. I could have cried over it. I did. Where the smoke from a chimney ended. How an overturned bottle rested at the edge of a table.I spent my life learning to feel less.Every day I felt less.Is that growing old? Or is it something worse?You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.”

“I hate competition. It’s one of the seven warning signs of work. I’ve spent most of my life trying to figure out ways to make money without working. I don’t know what I could do to get money besides driving a cab, except robbing banks. Both occupations have their pros and cons. For instance, bank robbery isn’t quite as dangerous as cab driving, but it pays better.”

“I am sorry to tell you that I am getting very extravagant and spending all my money: and what is worse for you, I have been spending yours too. ”