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Quote by Suzanne Finnamore

“I think: I would like to take N back to a story right now, like a rake. I would say, "Oh, this rake is uneven. Do you have any where the tines go straight across?" I would like to do a straight exchange. But there are things that cannot be returned. Errant husbands are one of them. Wives are not. Wives can be exchanged; I have always known this.”

Quote by Suzanne Finnamore

Work

Split: A Memoir of Divorce

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Suzanne Finnamore

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“And now, while he didn't particularly think any of these stories was a bit truer, he did realize that he didn't really know his wife at all; and that in fact the entire conception of knowing another person--of trust, of closeness, of marriage itself--while not exactly a lie since it existed someplace if only as an idea (in his parents' life, at least marginally) was still completely out-of-date, defunct, was something typifying another era, now unfortunately gone. Meeting a girl, falling in love, marrying her, moving to Connecticut, buying a fucking house, starting a life with her and thinking you really knew anything about her--the last part was a complete fiction, which made all the rest a joke.”

“The youngest one,” she interrupted. “The youngest son, I mean. The one who is unmarried.” “I know who he is.” “Very well, then. What is wrong with him?” At that she cocked her head to the side and waited expectantly. He thought for a moment. “Nothing.” “You—wait.” She blinked. “Nothing?” He shook his head, then shifted his weight a little; his good foot was beginning to fall asleep. “Nothing comes immediately to mind.” It was true. She could do a good deal worse than Gregory Bridgerton. “Really?” she asked suspiciously. “You find nothing at all objectionable about him.” Marcus pretended to think about this a bit longer. Clearly he was supposed to be playing a role here, probably that of the villain. Or if not that, then the grumpy old man. “I suppose he’s a bit young,” he said.”

“Mutuality is accomplished by two whole persons; and if each partner truly intends to be but the fraction of a relationship (thinking my whole makes up half of us) he or she will soon discover that these halves do not fit perfectly together. The mathematics can work only if each subtracts something of himself or herself, shears it off, and lays it aside forever. There will come, then, a moment of shock when one spouse realizes, ‘you won’t want the whole of me? Not the whole of me, but only a part of me, makes up the whole of us?” P 45”

“Colt, you’re a cop. I’m fairly certain you realize what you are proposing is illegal. As in bigamy.” He laughed. “You don’t legally marry us both. Just one of us. Then the three of us make our own private vows.” “Fine,” she leaned back and gave him a smug look as if expecting her next question to jar some sense into them. “Who am I going to legally marry?” He grinned at her transparency. Obviously, she thought this was going to be a sticking point. “We’ll arm wrestle to decide that.”

“Don’t worry if people think you’re crazy. You are crazy. You have that kind of intoxicating insanity that lets other people dream outside of the lines and become who they’re destined to be.”