Shopaholic Ties the Knot

This is what happens. You tell your friends your most personal secrets, and they use them against you.

Have you ever thought about the grid of Manhattan?' It's like...a metaphor for life. You think you have the freedom to walk anywhere. But in fact... you are strictly controlled. Up or down. Left or right. Nothing in between. No other options.' Life should be like an open space...you should be able to walk in whatever direction you choose.

she doesn’t really have a sense of humor. I think she’d like to have one—it’s just that she doesn’t quite understand what jokes are for.

This is me, remember?" retorts Suze. "I know what you're like! You used to throw all your bank statements into the trash and hope a complete stranger would pay off your bills!" This is what happens. You tell your friends your most personal secrets, and they use them against you.

You know what Hans told me last week?" she says as I open the door of my fitting room. "He told me to write down a list of everything I wanted to say about that women-and then tear it up. He said I'd feel a sense of freedom." "Oh right," I say interestedly. "So what happened?" "I wrote it all down," says Laurel. "And then I mailed it to her!

Our eyes met in the math class. How were we to know that trigonometry would lead to matrimony?

We're all to driven by materialism. Obsessed with success. With money. With trying to impress people who'll never be impressed.

Not a cute little whimper. Not a plaintive little wail. A full-throated, piercing “This Woman Has Kidnapped Me, Call the Cops" scream.

She's been used to hiding her feelings for so long, no wonder her manner can be a little awkward.

Bex...why did you buy an inflatable canoe?' 'It's for you to lie on. Or something.' 'And a watering can?' 'I couldn't find a plant spray.'Breathlessly I start shoving bags into the taxi. 'But why do I need a plant spray?' 'Look,it wasn't my idea, OK?' I say defensively.

Becky, if I had to wait five years, then I would. Or eight -- or even ten." He pauses, and there's complete silence except for a tiny gust of wind, blowing confetti about the churchyard. "But I hope that one day -- preferably rather sooner than that -- you'll do me the honor of marrying me?

OK.Now, I may be engaged, but I'm not going to get carried away.

Becky --" he begins, and there's a tiny intake of breath around the churchyard. "Will you--" "Yes! Yeee-esssss!" I hear the joyful sound ripping through the churchyard before I even realize I've opened my mouth. I'm so charged up with emotion, my voice doesn't even sound like mine. In fact, it sounds more like... Mum. I don't believe it.

How did I guess? From you . . . I mean, you look pregnant.” “No, I don’t! No one else has guessed!” “They must have. It’s completely obvious!