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“The point is not for women simply to take power out of men’s hands, since that wouldn’t change anything about the world. It’s a question precisely of destroying that notion of power.”

““Your role is one of the great traditions of not only American storytelling but Western storytelling as a whole. The woman is the oracle through which men like me find redemption and self-correction. You’re the mirror in which I’m able to see myself for who I really am and, in doing so, correct the flaws that have been plaguing me from my earliest days.” “Fuck you,” she says.”

“Holding on and getting attached is sadness. Letting go with love opens the heart to fill it with happiness.”

There is a kind of sadness that comes from knowing too much, from seeing the world as it truly is. It is the sadness of understanding that life is not a grand adventure, but a series of small, insignificant moments, that love is not a fairy tale, but a fragile, fleeting emotion, that happiness is not a permanent state, but a rare, fleeting glimpse of something we can never hold onto. And in that understanding, there is a profound loneliness, a sense of being cut off from the world, from other people, from oneself.

“So I lived two lives, one by day, one on those luckiest of nights, and I searched for guilt in the wake of this deception, only to find gratitude instead—that I had this gift of love in the form of a man, come to wake my soul, whenever it was in danger of entombing in sleep.”