To become and remain a woman commands the existence and employment of genius.
We are a wonder, an unprecedented miracle, and we will live through our little deaths.
Hope is also an act of defiance. Perhaps our only true meaningful rebellion.
In a sense, and as in melodrama, killing yourself amounts to confessing. It is confessing that life is too much for you or that you do not understand it.
To learn that we have said or done a stupid thing is nothing, we must learn a more ample and important lesson: that we are but blockheads.