“I always hated it when my heroines got married,” Rebecca Traister begins in her thorough new book, “All the Single Ladies: Unmarried Women and the Rise of an Independent Nation.”

There will be drawers full of cupped lace that you’ll never have to open.

But it doesn’t represent anything, as it is nothing. So, the nothing stays with us.

By JESSICA VITOVITCH Co-Literary Editor Three blood orange martinis, And a sunset drive down Broadway Saccharine taste on the tongue and eyes perched with gold, A beating heart that...

“The crib keeps her safe,” she tells me. Maybe it’s true, but every morning when I let her out I always make sure that she’s just as safe when she is with me.

“So Bret, I’ve noticed that you forgot to declare a major last year?” “No, my major is up there.” “... It says undeclared.” “Yes.” There was a pause. “That is my major.”

i am a lowercase person.

If darkness is to be allowed, it must be accompanied by the faint glow of an Apple-manufactured screen.

I type "define relationship" into Google, the holy search engine, the answer to all questions and the diagnoser of all disease. "The way in which two or more concepts, objects, or people are connected."

It was now 2089, and Michael no longer knew a world without Boston Dynamics.