Quotes from Marian Keyes

I sighed. "What is life but fleeting moments of happiness strung together on necklace of despair?

I'm proud of what I write and feel endorsed by my readers.

I went grey at 12, my eyesight went at 17. I've been a crock from very early on.

Some think love can be measured by the amount of butterflies in their tummy. Others think love can be measured in bunches of flowers, or by using the words 'for ever.' But love can only truly be measured by actions. It can be a small thing, such as peeling an orange for a person you love because you know they don't like doing it.

I sighed. What is life but fleeting moments of happiness strung together on necklace of despair?

The things we dislike most in others are the characteristics we like least in ourselves.

They say the path of true love never runs smooth. Well, Luke and my true love's path didn't run at all, it limped along in new boots that were chafing its heels. Blistered and cut, red and raw, every hopping, lopsided step, a little slice of agony.

I suppose I wanted to have my cake and eat it. But then again, what were you going to do with your cake if not eat it? Frame it? Use it as a sachet in your underwear drawer?

Waiting to be 'better' is the wrong approach. It's learning to live with it.

No more humiliation for me, thanks very much. No more swallowing my anger. Honestly, I couldn't manage another mouthful. But it was delicious. Did you make it yourself?

Her world had shrunk - no matter who she was with, she'd prefer to be with him. That's what happened when you fell in love - you only want to see them.

Sometimes you get what you want and sometimes you get what you need and sometimes you get what you get.

I am more of an ambler. I once overheard my old boss in Dublin describe me as very hello trees, hello flowers. It was intended as an insult and it fulfilled its brief; I was insulted. I had little interest in greeting trees and flowers but nor did I treat life as a treadmill, on which it was vital to keep fleeing forward in order to avoid being sucked off the back and out of the game.

If you lose someone, you feel a loss, then after a while you fill in the hole in your life and the loss gradually gets smaller and smaller and eventually goes away. There's a point to the pain. There's a reason and a direction.

I should have learned mindfulness, and it's too late now because it's no good learning it when you're already in crisis: you have to start when things are good. But only the very, very oddest would think, Hey, my life is perfect. I know! I'll sit and waste twenty minutes Observing My Thoughts without Judgement.

I am different when my nails are done. I am more dynamic. I gesticulate more, I am better at scaring my staff. I can indicate impatience by drumming on tabletops and I can wrap up a meeting with a few choice clatters.

I employ this thing I called The Shovel List." "A shovel..?" "No, a shovel list. It's more of a conceptual thing. It's a list of all the people and things I hate so much I want to hit them in the face with a shovel.

So I'm back again to the eternal question, the one that has plagued me all my life: How Do Other People Do It? How come they were given life's rule book and I missed out? Where was I when God was dispensing capability and cop on? Looking at shoes, probably.

In an unpredictable and unpleasant world it was both unusual and very pleasant to hear what I wanted to hear.

It was only when the salt water of my tears ran into my cuts and made them sting that I discovered I was crying.

It's not like you take the right turning and you get everlasting happiness and you take the wrong one and your life's a disaster. In real life it's often impossible to tell which decision is the one you should make because what you stand to gain and what you stand to lose are sometimes-often-neck and neck.

Political correctness is a minefield

Minsk! How pissed-off that sounded! It was great. You could scare the bejayzus out of someone if you said it right.

I forced myself to stop thinking about it. I went to the room in my brain where all my thoughts about Adam lived and disconnected the electricity and boarded up all the doors and windows, so nothing could get out. Obviously it was very unsightly. There were bound to be complaints from the neighboring thoughts. But I had no choice.