The thing I longed for as a teenager is now an object of neglect and scorn. I’ve grown to hate my telephone.

I don’t much like to think that being a bachelor girl limits how you see the world. On the other hand, I know it certainly limits how the world sees you.

I’m perpetually curious as to what happened to all those supposed prodigies who were singled out while I and my coterie of far more interesting malcontents passed on.

Sloth is the fastest-growing lifestyle movement in the world, and that’s because it is completely doable. If you embrace sloth, it’s the last thing you’ll ever have to do again.

No matter how successful I become as a playwright, my mother would be thrilled to hear me tell her that I’d just lost twenty pounds, gotten married and become a lawyer.

Being a grownup means assuming responsibility for yourself, for your children, and – here’s the big curve – for your parents.

The marriages come and go but your friendships stay, which is the opposite of what it used to be, so that there will be people in our lives for 30 years and often it is not your husband, it’s your women friends, male friends with whom you come of age.

I’m not going to throw my imagination away. I refuse to lie down to expectation. If I can just hold out till I’m thirty, I’ll be incredible.

No matter how lonely you get or how many birth announcements you receive, the trick is not to get frightened. There’s nothing wrong with being alone.

Sometimes I want to clean up my desk and go out and say, respect me, I’m a respectable grown-up, and other times I just want to jump into a paper bag and shake and bake myself to death.