Quotes About Expectations

Marriage seemed like such a small space whenever I was in it. I liked the getting married. Courtship has a plotline. But there's no plot to being married. Just the same things over and over again. Same fights, same friends, same things you do on a Saturday. The repetition would start to get to me.

We all have a sense of level. It may not be based on class exactly anymore, but we still have a sense of what we're entitled to. People pick partners who are nearly their equal in looks. The pretty marry the pretty, the ugly the ugly. To the detriment of the breed.

The older sister could have been an overachiever who cast the kind of shadow in which nothing could grow.

Men never have to be uncomfortable around women. Women have to be uncomfortable around men all of the time.

the reason the middle class had it so good was because they expected things to be better. They wouldn't settle for less than they were worth. They'd just get into their shiny cars and go where they were appreciated. Poor people, on the other hand, were used to just taking what was given to them and being grateful for it.

Once you start having babies, that perfect, loving husband of yours will start treating you like a milk cow. Trust me. It's like they think they have something over you. And they do. You're trapped, and they know that you need them, but they can walk away at any time and find somebody younger and tighter to have fun with.

He had never brought home a school report and watched his mother smile. The clay ashtray he'd made in kindergarten had been one of sixteen Mrs. Flannigan received on Mother's Day. All the Christmas gifts under the tree were labeled "for a girl" or "for a boy." The evening Will graduated high school, he'd looked out at the crowd of cheering families and seen only strangers.

Eighteen years ago, Lydia had told her that the problem with Paul Scott was that he didn't see Claire as a normal, imperfect human being. He was blind to her faults. He covered her missteps. He would never challenge her or scare her or infuriate her or stir up any of those fiery emotions that made it worthwhile to put up with a man's bullshit.

The entire world gave men the responsibility for everything in it except for their dicks.

John had learned a long time ago that the reason the middle class had it so good was because they expected things to be better. They wouldn't settle for less than they were worth. They'd just get into their shiny cars and go where they were appreciated. Poor people, on the other hand, were used to just taking what was given to them and being grateful for it.

These were the qualities that painted young me as smart and ambitious and young woman as trouble.

these were the qualities that painted young men as smart and ambitious and young women as trouble.

I send notes. I'm not a chambermaid whom you can ring at every moment. Today, you know, most people act like they work at a switchboard in a hotel.

We seem to live in a world where you have to walk around grinning like a loon. I can't understand all the fuss about Mona Lisa painting, everyone wondering why she's not smiling, if she's depressed or heartbroken. No, she was just normal! Emotions are always extreme these days: you either have to be crying with laughter or crying in pain. No wonder water levels are rising. It's not global warming, it's all the tears from crying.

Research shows that arranged marriages last longer, and I wonder if it's down to the fact that it's other people putting you together, like when a family member buys you a gift it's not easy to throw it away, as there's a chance they'll come to visit and ask where it is and get upset when you say you've binned it.

I don't really like surprises. Not big ones anyway. Just having a pack of Revels holds enough of a surprise for me.

Before we left, Seija asked if I felt any cosmic powers. I wanted to say yes, but I hadn't, so I decided to be honest with her. She seemed disappointed by this news.

People always tell me I'm going to regret not having kids. But what if I have one and then I regret having it? Has anyone thought of that option?

A 'career woman,' Sylvie said, as if the two words had no place in the same sentence. A spinster, she added, contemplating the word. Ursula wondered why her mother was working so hard to rile her. Perhaps you will never marry, Sylvie said, as if in conclusion, as if Ursula's life was as good as over. Would that be such a bad thing? 'The unmarried daughter,' Ursula said, tucking into an iced fancy. It was good enough for Jane Austen.

Why was it that the females of the species were always the ones left to tidy up, she wondered? I expect Jesus came out of the tomb...and said to his mother, Can you tidy it up a bit back there?

How many times would he disappoint you in a day if you were married to him? Ursula wondered. It seemed to her that in the search for arguments against marriage the existence of Maurice presented the very best one of all.

She'd had a glimpse of a possible future-the pretty cottage, the garden full of flowers and vegetables, bread in the oven, a bowl of strawberries on the table, the happy baby hitched on her hip while she threw corn to the chickens. It would be like a Hardy novel before it all goes wrong.

She would be happy -- but not excessively so....

The mistake,' Sylvie said, 'is thinking that love equates with happiness.')