Desperate Housewives

The worst kinds of lies are the lies we tell ourselves just before we go to sleep. The lies that say 'I'm happy', or 'He's happy', or 'This will all be over', or 'I can change', or 'He'll change his mind', or ‘I don't need her', or 'I don't need him.'

Every storm brings with it hope that somehow by morning, everything will be made clean again. And even the most troubling stains will have disappeared. Like the doubts over his innocence or the consequence of his mistake. Like the scars of his betrayal or the memory of his kiss. So we wait for the storm to pass hoping for the best even though we know in our hearts some stains are so indelible, nothing can wash them away.

— Gaby, these pictures have to be wholesome. They gotta say 'these people will do a great job raising a child.
— So?
— So, you're topless.
— Yeah, but it's St. Barts and your hands are covering my naughty parts.
— Do you mean the hand that's holding the tequila shot, or the one that's holding the Cuban cigar?

Passion. It's a force so potent we still remember it long after it's faded away. A drive so alluring it can push us into the arms of unexpected lovers. A sensation so overwhelming, it can knock down walls we've built to protect our hearts. A feeling so intense, it resurfaces even though we tried so hard to keep it buried. Yes, of all emotions, passion is the one that gives us a reason to live, and an excuse to commit all sorts of crimes.

Trust is a fragile thing. Once earned, it affords us tremendous freedom. But once trust is lost, it can be impossible to recover. Of course the truth is, we never know who we can trust. Those we're closest to can betray us, and total strangers can come to our rescue. In the end, most people decide to trust only themselves. It really is the simplest way to keep from getting burned.

Good friends offer to help in a crisis, great friends don't take no for an answer.

The opposite of love isn't hate. It's indifference. And if you hate me, that means you still care, and we're still connected... and I still have a chance to set you right.

A man is only as sick as his secrets.

Yes, life is a journey, one that is much better travelled with a companion by our side. Of course, that companion can be just about anyone... a neighbor on the other side of the street... or the man on the other side of the bed. The companion can be a mother with good intentions... or a child who's up to no good. Still, despite our best intentions, some of us will lose our companions along the way. And then the journey becomes unbearable. You see, human beings are designed for many things, but loneliness isn't one of them.

— More. But I'm tougher, and I complain less.
— Not when you give birth — and you do that a lot.

— I'm pregnant!
— Pregnant with a baby?
— How long have you been sniffing those markers? Of course, with a baby.

You shouldn't listen to a woman who's just had her heart broken.

Have you met the perfect couple? <...> No? They stand atop a layer of butter-cream frosting. Well, for starters, they don't have to look at each other.

It's a rare man that understands the value of a perfect rose.

Nothing is forever and the time comes when we all must say goodbye to the world we knew. Goodbye to everything we had taken for granted. Goodbye to those we though would never abandon us. And when these changes finally do occur, when the familiar has departed and the unfamiliar has taken its place, all any of us can really do is to say hello and welcome.

There’s a saying: You know you’ve hit middle age when your memories become more important to you than your dreams.