I've got letters from all over the world saying what you're describing as American parenting is Chilean middle-class parenting, or it is Finnish middle-class parenting, or it is Slovak middle-class parenting.

Optimism - even, and perhaps especially in the face of difficulty - has long been an American hallmark.

Sometimes I just tell my kids, 'Outside of France, I'm considered completely normal.' This worked until we traveled to London.

Every time I pass a cafe, I imagine it being stormed by men with Kalashnikovs.

A large part of the creative process is tolerating the gap between the glorious image you had in your mind and the sad thing you've just made.

I'm not an early adopter. I'll only start wearing new styles of clothing once they're practically out of date, and I won't move into a neighborhood until it's fully saturated with upscale coffee shops.

Remember that the problem with hyper-parenting isn't that it's bad for children; it's that it's bad for parents.

I've been vacationing in western North Carolina and northern Georgia since I was a kid. I arrive, marvel at the mountains, and put on an unconvincing Southern drawl.

It's fine to discuss money in France, as long as you're complaining that you don't have enough, or boasting about getting a bargain.

Parisiennes rarely walk around wearing the giant diamonds that are de rigueur in certain New York neighborhoods.

The French view is really one of balance, I think... What French women would tell me over and over is, it's very important that no part of your life - not being a mom, not being a worker, not being a wife - overwhelms the other part.

In the English books, the American kids' books, typically, there is a problem, the characters grapple with that problem, and the problem is resolved.

As an American married to an Englishman and living in France, I've spent much of my adult life trying to decode the rules of conversation in three countries. Paradoxically, these rules are almost always unspoken.

The main thing my bookcase says about me is that I'm not French.

Parisians won't admit that they go to the gym, let alone that they're scared of terrorists.

I hear people in their 20s describe the 40s as a far-off decade of too-late, when they'll regret things that they haven't done. But for older people I meet, the 40s are the decade that they would most like to travel back to.

When you're the foreigner and your kids are the natives, they realize you're clueless much sooner than they ordinarily would. I'm pretty sure mine skipped the Mommy-is-infallible stage entirely.

Discrimination was a problem before terrorism. Now, the bad deeds of a few people have made life worse for millions.

Babies aren't savages. Toddlers understand language long before they can talk.

I was scared to say I was in my 40s because at that point, it sounded really old, and to out myself as a middle-aged human - I felt very awkward about it.

There's this idea in America that you can be whatever you want. That remains an ideal in terms of how you dress too - when you go shopping, you try on all possible selves and then decide.

There's an American idea that you want to look as young as you can for as long as you can. If you can be mistaken for a teenager from behind into your 50s, then you've won; you've succeeded.

I'm speaking in very broad brushstrokes, but in France, there's generally this idea that you should look like the best version of the age that you are.

In my 40s, I expect to finally reap the average-looking girl's revenge. I've entered the stage of life where you don't need to be beautiful; simply by being well-preserved and not obese, I would now pass for pretty.

Certain woman will be jealous of how skinny you are, no matter what's causing it.

In your 40s, you kind of know how things are likely to go, and you're better at saying, 'You know what? That just doesn't suit me...' I remember thinking in my 30s, 'I should go to Burning Man. I could be a Burning Man person.' And in my 40s, I'm like, 'You know what? I'm never going to go to Burning Man.'

Just do what you want more often. Don't be so worried about what other people expect.

I think, in writing a memoir, you kind of give order to your life.

Although I wrote a book about infidelity around the world, I ended up concluding that fidelity is quite a good idea.

The question on my husband's birthday is always, What do you get for the man who has nothing?

Usually, I'm so self-absorbed that my companion could be bleeding to death, and I might not notice.

When you're further along in your career, you probably have more money and more means; you have to stop yourself from giving your child too much. Whereas, if you're in twenties, you might just get by.

In the Nineties, there was all this new research into brain development, with evidence saying poor kids fall behind in school because no one is talking to them at home, no one is reading to them. And middle-class parents seized on this research.

Unlike the time sink of binge-watching a TV series, podcasts actually made me more efficient. Practically every dull activity - folding laundry, applying makeup - became tolerable when I did it while listening to a country singer describing his hardscrabble childhood, or a novelist defending her open marriage.

And as a mother of three with a full-time job, podcasts gave me the illusion of having a vibrant social life. I was constantly 'meeting' new people. My favorite hosts started to seem like friends: I could detect small shifts in their moods and tell when they were flirting with guests.

French children seem to be able to play by themselves in a way.

This idea - that the only way to mend the relationship post-affair is through therapy - is unique to the American script.

Get rid of the idea of kids' food. Kids can eat whatever adults can eat. You know, there is one dinner, and everyone has the same thing.

What you can say, what French parents say to their kids is, 'You don't have to eat everything, honey, you just have to taste it.' And it's that tasting little by little by little that gets kids more familiar with the food and more comfortable with it and more likely to eat it the next time.

The French talk about education, the education of their children. They don't talk about raising kids. They talk about education. And that has nothing to do with school. It's this kind of broad description of how you raise children and what you teach them.

When we're in the U.S., my kids instantly start snacking all the time. I don't know how it happens. There is just more food available all the time. There aren't all these little different varieties of snack foods in France.

I think kids in France, and certainly in my household, don't necessarily stop interrupting when you tell them, but they gradually become more aware of other people, and that means that you can have the expectation of finishing a conversation.

I'm always hoping no one is following me around with a camera.

I don't like rules, because rules, you have to follow.

If you want to know how old you look, just walk into a French cafe. It's like a public referendum on your face.

You know you're in your 40s when you've spent 48 hours trying to think of a word, and that word was 'hemorrhoids.'

Childhood and adolescence are nothing but milestones: You grow taller, advance to new grades, and get your period, your driver's license, and your diploma. Then, in your 20s and 30s, you romance potential partners, find jobs, and learn to support yourself.

Here's some news you might find surprising: By and large, the French like Jews.

When people used to ask me what I missed about America, I would say, 'The optimism.' I grew up in the land of hope, then moved to one whose catchphrases are 'It's not possible' and 'Hell is other people.' I walked around Paris feeling conspicuously chipper.

Before Donald Trump took office, optimism about his presidency was the lowest of any president-elect since at least the 1970s.