"This taught me many things. The first was that food could be dangerous, especially to those who loved it," (p. 5).

"Mrs. Peavey straightened up and looked directly at me. 'I am not your mother,' she asid succinctly. 'I do not turn on the gas and then go into the living room looking for matches. Normal people do not set themselves on fire,'" (p. 43).

"Disaster was always simmering just below the surface and we cherished every peaceful moment with my mother. By then we were starting to suspect the truth, that my mother was a manic-depressive, but neither of us knew what to do about it. When lithium entered our lives a few years later we were deeply grateful: up to then we both believed, in our secret hearts, that my mothers' moods were our personal responsibility," (p. 5).

"I yearned for romance and dreamed of candlelight suppers...