Our humor turns our anger into a fine art.

It’s an old trick now, God knows, but it works every time. At the very moment women start to expand their place in the world, scientific studies deliver compelling reasons for them to stay home.

Mother is the first word that occurs to politicians and columnists and popes when they raise the question, ‘Why isn’t life turning out the way we want it?’

Our humor turns our anger into a fine art.

Divorce is the psychological equivalent of a triple coronary bypass.

A mother is neither cocky, nor proud, because she knows the school principal may call at any minute to report that her child had just driven a motorcycle through the gymnasium.

The absolute dependence of a newborn infant inspired many things in me, but it did not activate any magical knowledge about what to do for the next twenty years.