263 Quotes by Meg Wolitzer

Even when I can’t relate on a personal level, she makes me know what she feels, and that’s really something. To find out what another human being feels, a person who isn’t you; to get a look under the hood, so to speak. A deep look inside. That’s what writing is supposed to do.

Everyone needs a wife; even wives need wives.

Without company, misery turns to sorrow, and sorrow turns inward, curling up in some dark, damp corner.

What do I need to do to get you to go to sleep? Hit you over the head with a frying pan?

And I also know that pain can seem like an endless ribbon. You pull it and you pull it. You keep gathering it toward you, and as it collects, you really can’t believe that there’s something else at the end of it. Something that isn’t just more pain. But there’s always something else at the end; something at least a little different. You never know what that thing will be, but it’s there.

She had seen that look on the faces of lovers in restaurants, on the secret: a secret, meaningful glance exchanged between two people. There seemed to be a conspiracy of passion in the world.

Oh tragedy, oh tragedy, the boy said to himself, but he was smiling a little. Oh joy, oh joy. Hearts and stars exploded in the darkness above their heads.

People’s marriages were like two-person religious cults, impossible to understand.

But all she could feel was that he was her friend, her wonderful and gifted friend.