“I could ask him if he think "a lot" means the same as "too many"...I could tell him that he shouldn't call a girl a slut because someday she might be somebody's mother...maybe she's a slut because she's lonely, she's sad, she's hoping someone or something will make the lonely and sad go away.”

“Besides, there was something under the good girl facade. She hated me on sight because she’d been burned by someone like me before. No way was she a slut, though. Not even a reformed slut. I could spot them a mile away. My game face slowly melted away. I’d finally found a girl that was interesting enough to get to know, and a version of me had already hurt her.”

“He smiled. He liked to imagine that she saw the beauty, that she could think outside the well-worn tracks of her countrymen, find something to like about this unsophisticated place. Because that just might mean she could find something to like about him.”

“Did he mean me or Jenny Mullendore was a slut?" Joanne wondered. "Because honestly, I don't see how she has the time for slut activities with those two preschoolers of hers. Me, I've got lots of time.”

“He says he’s lonely, horribly lonely because of this love he feels for her. She says she’s lonely too. She doesn’t say why.”

“there's not a girl who's more hopeful than a slut, more optimistic.She may give in but she doesn't give up.She keeps looking, she keeps hoping, she's always waiting for that someone who will say it: i love you too.”