“My virginity's still intact, Guy," I say as I stand up and brush the dirt from my butt. "Yours, on the other hand, has been gone for so long I've seen it on the side of a milk carton.”

“I see ridiculous stories about my butt, like how it has been insured. I feel like saying, "Hey, everyone has a butt. It's not that big a deal!" But I suppose it's flattering. Personally, I've always loved the curvy look. Even when I was a little girl and all my friends would be like, "Oh, my god, your butt's so big." And I'd say, "I love it.”

“People talk about medium. What is your medium? My medium as a writer has been dirt, clay, sand--what I could touch, hold, stand on, and stand for--Earth. My medium has been Earth. Earth in correspondence with my mind.”

“I don't know where life will lead me, but I know where I've been. I can't say what life will show me, but I know what I've seen. Tried my hand at love and friendship, but all that is passed and gone. This little boy is moving on.”

“Stuart stands and says, 'Come here,' and he's on my side of the room in one stride and he claps my hands to his hips and kisses my mouth like I am the drink he's been dying for all day and I've heard girls say it's like melting, that feeling. But I think it's like rising, growing even taller and seeing sights over a hedge, colors you've never seen before.”

“ Where is the stupid bus? And why did my dad have to be so big on mass transit, anyhow? Why couldn't I I own a car, like practically every other senior? But no, i had to 'share the ride' to save the environment. When I'm abducted by the menacing guy under the tree, Dad will probably insist my face only appear on recycled milk cartons....”