Heartburn-Nora Ephron (taken from The Most of Nora Ephron)
What am I doing married to men who come up with excuses like this?(p. 133)
"Too New York" is what the last network that was approached about me responded, which is a cute way of being anti-Semitic, but who cares? (136)
It took her so long, in fact, that I really don't have time to give you the recipe, because it takes up a lot of space to explain how slowly and painstakingly she did everything, sautéing the onions over a tiny flame so none of them would burn, throwing more and more butter into the pan, cooking the eggs so slowly that my father was always sure they wouldn't be ready until the game was completely over and everyone had gone home. We should have known my mother was crazy years before we did just because of the maniacal passion she brought to her lox and onions and eggs, but we didn't. (140)
If pregnancy were a book, they would cut the last two chapters. (155)
Every so often I contemplate suicide merely to remind myself of my complete lack of interest in it as a solution to anything at all. (156)
"Why do you have to make everything into a joke?" asked Diana.
"I don't have to make everything into a joke," I said. "I have to make everything into a story. Remember?" (161)
"I want him back so I can yell at him and tell him he's a schmuck," I said. "Anyway, he's my schmuck." I paused. "And I want him to stop seeing her. I want him to say he never really loved her. I want him to say he must have been crazy. I want her to die. I want him to die, too."
"I thought you said you wanted him back," said Ellis.
"I do," I said, "but I want him back dead." (162)
The infidelity itself is small potatoes compared to the low-level brain damage that results when a whole chunk of your life turns out to have been completely different from what you thought it was. (167)
For a long time, I didn't believe him. And then I believed him. I believed in change. I believed in metamorphosis. I believed in redemption. I believed in Mark. My marriage to him was as willful an act as I have ever committed; I married him against all the evidence. I married him believing that marriage doesn't work, that love dies, that passion fades, and in so doing I became the kind of romantic only a cynic is truly capable of being. I see all that now. At the time, though, I saw nothing of the sort. I honestly believed that Mark had learned his lesson. Unfortunately, the lesson he learned wasn't the one I had in mind: what he learned is that he could do anything, and in the end there was a chance I'd take him back. (180)
"What else did he tell you?" I said.
"He said you were mean to him," said Arthur.
"I probably am," I said.
"Don't be ridiculous," said Julie.
"I am," I said. "All summer long I was snapping at him because he was never there."
"Of course you were snapping at him," said Julie. "He was having an affair." (199)
On making very crisp potatoes, specifically Swiss potatoes and potatoes Anna- All this takes time, and time, as any fool can tell you, is what true romance is about. (206)
I must seem to be putting too much emphasis on this vinaigrette of mine, but war is war. (209)
"Do you believe in love?" said my obstetrician.
This is what I get for calling him by his first name, I thought. This is the price I pay for insisting that if he's going to call me by my first name I get to call him by his. (232)
"Too New York" is what the last network that was approached about me responded, which is a cute way of being anti-Semitic, but who cares? (136)
It took her so long, in fact, that I really don't have time to give you the recipe, because it takes up a lot of space to explain how slowly and painstakingly she did everything, sautéing the onions over a tiny flame so none of them would burn, throwing more and more butter into the pan, cooking the eggs so slowly that my father was always sure they wouldn't be ready until the game was completely over and everyone had gone home. We should have known my mother was crazy years before we did just because of the maniacal passion she brought to her lox and onions and eggs, but we didn't. (140)
If pregnancy were a book, they would cut the last two chapters. (155)
Every so often I contemplate suicide merely to remind myself of my complete lack of interest in it as a solution to anything at all. (156)
"Why do you have to make everything into a joke?" asked Diana.
"I don't have to make everything into a joke," I said. "I have to make everything into a story. Remember?" (161)
"I want him back so I can yell at him and tell him he's a schmuck," I said. "Anyway, he's my schmuck." I paused. "And I want him to stop seeing her. I want him to say he never really loved her. I want him to say he must have been crazy. I want her to die. I want him to die, too."
"I thought you said you wanted him back," said Ellis.
"I do," I said, "but I want him back dead." (162)
The infidelity itself is small potatoes compared to the low-level brain damage that results when a whole chunk of your life turns out to have been completely different from what you thought it was. (167)
For a long time, I didn't believe him. And then I believed him. I believed in change. I believed in metamorphosis. I believed in redemption. I believed in Mark. My marriage to him was as willful an act as I have ever committed; I married him against all the evidence. I married him believing that marriage doesn't work, that love dies, that passion fades, and in so doing I became the kind of romantic only a cynic is truly capable of being. I see all that now. At the time, though, I saw nothing of the sort. I honestly believed that Mark had learned his lesson. Unfortunately, the lesson he learned wasn't the one I had in mind: what he learned is that he could do anything, and in the end there was a chance I'd take him back. (180)
"What else did he tell you?" I said.
"He said you were mean to him," said Arthur.
"I probably am," I said.
"Don't be ridiculous," said Julie.
"I am," I said. "All summer long I was snapping at him because he was never there."
"Of course you were snapping at him," said Julie. "He was having an affair." (199)
On making very crisp potatoes, specifically Swiss potatoes and potatoes Anna- All this takes time, and time, as any fool can tell you, is what true romance is about. (206)
I must seem to be putting too much emphasis on this vinaigrette of mine, but war is war. (209)
"Do you believe in love?" said my obstetrician.
This is what I get for calling him by his first name, I thought. This is the price I pay for insisting that if he's going to call me by my first name I get to call him by his. (232)