“Not all at once, but gradually, over the months, another revelation came to me: None of that other stuff, much as I'd loved it, was what made a marriage. Not restaurant dinners or romantic vacations. Not walks on the beach or visits to wine country in the Boxster. Not oysters and martinis or moonlight over the Bay Bridge."
"This was a marriage. As uncomfortable and inconvenient and devastating as it might be to live as we did now, we inhabited this place together.”