I'm a married woman. I love my husband; I have a good life.

I don't know Bill Clinton as someone who needs to literally sexually harass a woman. I'm sure that he could have found many willing participants.

I really like being married. I love my husband.

Love will turn the whole world into something greater than itself.

The good life is one inspired by love and guided by knowledge.

Over the following days and weeks I would come to see, with mounting weariness, that this was to be the pattern of my life from now on: marginal and grim; my habitual daydreams and memories of our life as a couple reduced to nothing, to stuttering salvoes, by the gunpowder of the simple physical truth of my husband's absence.