“She'd bottled herself up like a person already cremated.”

“What madness! Yet she would do it, if she could force herself. She'd become, she believed, a stronger person: a willful, resolute. Like the man who adored her, reckless.”

“I have boobs!" Chloe said again, a bit too loudly— she'd already had a couple of mini bottles at the Spot. "My boobs are great, goddammit. You know that? They're fantastic! My boobs are amazing.”

“...She'd drawn the moment of her death.No. NO. She'd DRAWN herself to death.”

“She was never going to seek gainful employment again, that was for certain. She'd remain outside the public sector. She'd be an anarchist, she'd travel with jaguars. She was going to train herself to be totally irrational. She'd fall in love with a totally inappropriate person. She'd really work on it, but abandon would be involved as well. She'd have different names, a.k.a. Snake, a.k.a. Snow - no that was juvenile. She wanted to be extraordinary, to possess a savage glitter.”

“Her right hand held a bottle of Pepsi that she'd clogged with peanuts and called a late lunch.”