“that was her edge. her secret weapon. she didnt give a shit.”

“Death disapearance was what you didnt talk about. like a sewer running under the street, the shit was down there, out of sight, but you could smell it, it didnt go away, it didnt vanish”

“she was such a bad actress. she never said her lines rite, it was something perverse in her nature. and wat was her line anyway?”

“Her fingers moved among barnacles and mussels, blue-black, sharp-edged. Neon red starfish were limp Dalis on the rocks, surrounded by bouquets of stinging anemones and purple bursts of spiny sea urchins.”

“She was not used to being cruel, but he had taught her how.”

“She kissed me on the mouth. Her mouth tasted like iced coffee and cardamom, and I was overwhelmed by the taste, her hot skin and the smell of unwashed hair. I was confused, but not unwilling. I would have let her do anything to me.”

“She’s never where she is,' I said. 'She’s only inside her head.”