“My body is my own," I said. "I may choose to share it with someone, but it's not for sale or for hire, nor is it a reward. I'd rather starve to death than use it as such.”

“Who Am I? I am not a disease, nor my weight, nor even my family. I am not my job, or my things, or the house I live in. I am not the words used to describe me (quiet or boring or something else I haven't thought of), the books I read, or the clothes I wear. I am not what you see, on the outside or what I say or even the things I do. It's all illusory. I am, instead, this essence inside. I am the strength that gives me breath each day. I am the love I feel within. I am a light in the dark. I am a little piece of this universe. I am human. I am silence. I am hope burning. I am kindness. I am laughter. I am all of these things. I am.”

“...I understand what my body's for. My bosom is as deep as all the oceans and my hips as wide as the fields...”

“the body is wiser than its inhabitants. the body is the soul. the body is god’s messenger.”

“So there were people who got up at noon, pared their toenails, and sat naked in hotel rooms without regarding each day as an apocalypse. Amazing! If someone had burst into my room and found me naked and paring my nails, I would have died of shock. Or would I? Maybe I was stronger than I thought.”

“I used to know a sculptor," Isabella said, nodding. "He always said that if you looked hard enough, you could see where each person carried his soul in his body. It sounds crazy, but when you saw his sculptures, it made sense. I think the same is true with those we love," she explained. "Our bodies carry our memories of them, in our muscles, in our skin, in our bones. My children are right here." She pointed to the inside curve of her elbow. "Where I held them when they were babies. Even if there comes a time when I don't know who they are anymore, I believe I will feel them here.”

“As I rock down the hall I am flung from my path- snatched and grabbed. Before I can even utter a word, a large palm is covering my mouth. In less than five seconds I am inside a pitch black room, pushed face first into a cold metal door, and I hear the lock snick into place. A heavy weight presses at my back. I didn’t even have time to panic. It was a well-timed attack.My mind flashes to another time and place, another hand on my mouth. I breathe though the panic that tries to overcome me.I allow my senses to put me at ease. He’s just softly breathing near my ear. His body is relaxed. The way he holds me feels more playful than threatening.“Let me guess… the Boss,” I say to the heavy weight at my back. My tone is a mix of amused annoyance.”