I'll Take The Shooting. I'm Used To

I Hope If There Is Another World, We Will Not Be Judged Too Harshly For The Things We Did Wrong Here—that We Will At Least Be Forgiven For The Mistakes We Made Out Of Love.

Men, She Thought, Were One Of The World's Few Sure Comforts, Like A Fire On A Cold October Night, Like Cocoa, Like Broken-in-slippers. Their Clumsy Affections, Their Bristly Faces, And Their Willingness To Do What Needed To Be Done - Cook An Omelette, Change Lightbulbs, Make With Hugging - Sometimes Almost Made Being A Woman Fun.

You'll Have Pie In The Sky When You Die.

I Felt Like It Needed Some Color Down There, So I Painted The Walls With The Motherfucker.

I See God Now As An Unimaginative Writer Of Popular Fictions, Someone Who Builds Stories Around Sadistic And Graceless Plots, Narratives That Exist Only To Express His Terror Of A Woman's Power To Choose Who And How To Love, To Redefine Love As She Sees Fit, Not As God Thinks It Ought To Be. The Author Is Unworthy Of His Own Characters.