Aminah Mae Safi

For Amy Sherman-Palladino. Thank you for never giving Rory Gilmore a decent boyfriend. She’s always had Paris.

Rachel had to explain herself with the one person she truly hated in the world right by her side.

But Mom tended to say that the leeway was millimeters for women where the male directors got miles.

Because they never had to say hello to each other. Because she didn’t have to censor herself with him. It was more like one continuous, drawn-out conversation throughout the course of their lives. Because Papa would always pick up for Rachel

Wrong. You apologize profusely, assuming the other person won’t forgive you and that you will do anything to get them back on your side. And you have to mean it. Anything.”

The classics are always changing. They’re the ideal. The heart of movies. They’re supposed to be stable. And sometimes they are. But they’re also subject to whims. Like. Breakfast at Tiffany’s. That’s a classic. But it’s gonna be dead in twenty years, because it’s got Mickey Rooney in yellowface. And eventually that’s gonna make people uncomfortable. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But one day, it’s gonna fade out.

Through sheer willpower, I think. It’s kind of amazing what you can do when you decide you can’t fail.”

who usually remembered to be sensitive to the people she loved just after she’d stuck her foot in her mouth.

Let the knowledge that she was lying to them all—about Princeton, about her fellowship application, about potentially what she wanted from her life—wash over her in waves that coincided with the thumps of the seams in the freeway concrete.

Let the knowledge that she was lying to them all—about Princeton, about her fellowship application, about potentially what she wanted from her life—wash over her in waves that coincided with the thumps of the seams in the freeway concrete.