“Oh, my dear, this is worse than I expected! A strange girl is always a bore among good friends, but one can generally manage her. But a girl who writes books - why, it isn't respectable! And you can't snub that sort of people; they're unsnubbable.”

“How can you be so many women to so many strange people, oh you strange girl?”

“It is quite easy to see why a legend is treated, and ought to be treated, more respectfully than a book of history. The legend is generally made by the majority of people in the village, who are sane. The book is generally written by the one man in the village who is mad.”

“That’s my good girl,” he growled in my ear. And there it was. His good girl? Why did I always have to be the good girl? Fuck that.”

“This is worse than Hollywood, he thought. A girl comes in with a pork chop and I write a song for her.”

“Most girls bored me outta my gourd, but this girl was intriguing. Entertaining, even. I didn’t faze her, at least not in a positive way. My very presence seemed to make her want to puke, and I found that strangely endearing.”