People Are Often Frightened Of Parisians, But

Across Town, Over In The East Village, The Graffiti Was Calling For The Rich To Be Eaten, Imprisoned, Or Taxed Out Of Existence. Though It Sometimes Seemed Like A Nice Idea, I Hoped The Revolution Would Not Take Place During My Lifetime. I Didn't Want The Rich To Go Away Until I Could At Least Briefly Join Their Ranks.

In The Netherlands Now, I Imagine It's Legal To Marry Your Own Children. Get Them Pregnant, And You Can Abort Your Unborn Grandbabies In A Free Clinic That Used To Be A Church.

Hugh And I Have Been Together For So Long That In Order To Arouse Extraordinary Passion, We Need To Engage In Physical Combat. Once, He Hit Me On The Back Of The Head With A Broken Wineglass, And I Fell To The Floor Pretending To Be Unconscious. That Was Romantic, Or Would Have Been Had He Rushed To My Side Rather Than Stepping Over My Body To Fetch The Dustpan.

I'm So Old That When I Started Keeping A Diary They Were In Actual Books, And I Think That's One The Reasons That I've Never Written About Sex. Because Early On You Had To Worry That Someone Was Going To Find Your Diary, So It's Bad Enough To Be Writing Like Joan Didion, But Writing Like Joan Didion About Sex Acts You'd Performed With Somebody You Had Known For 20 Minutes, That's A Bit Worse. So I Would Write In My Diary, "i Met J. And We Had Sex Five Times Last Night." But I Would Never Write About What We Did.

There’s A Lot I Don’t Tell My Father When He Calls Asking After Amy. He Wouldn’t Understand That She Has No Interest In Getting Married And Was, In Fact, Quite Happy To Break Up With Her Live-in Boyfriend, Whom She Replaced With An Imaginary Boyfriend Named Ricky. The Last Time She Was Asked Out By A Successful Bachelor, Amy Hesitated Before Saying, ‘thanks For Asking, But I’m Really Not Into White Guys Right Now.