“She jerked her hand back and shot me what could only be described as a 'bitch' look. Frankly, it was a fucking work of art and I was sort of jealous of that level of mastery.”

“This was why I did what I did," she whispered. "I looked at those men at the ball, and I thought of that night in the carriage when you touched me, and I knew I could never let any of them touch me." She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, pressing his hands to her breasts. "Only you.”

“I jerked the blankets right back off her, and there she was with her nightdress up around her neck. It was a shock to me that, her starting to look like a woman."[Jimmy about Molly]”

“She sorts out her lipstick with a glance in the hall mirror, her free hand simultaneously pointing out rogue books and magazines that suddenly, urgently need me to tidy them. She ducks into her bedroom, rummages noisily, makes a brief appearance in the hallway in what can only be described as a Poncho. 'No,' she says. 'No.' And she balls it up and flings it back through her bedroom door. I want to medicate her. One of those tranquilliser darts they use to bring down big cats would do.- Joel”

“She was at a cash register, screaming at a customer. She was, in fact, calling this customer a bitch. I touched her arm and said, “I have to go now.” She laid her hand on my shoulder, squeezed it gently, and continued her conversation, saying, “Don’t tell the store president I called you a bitch. Tell him I called you a fucking bitch, because that’s exactly what you are. Now get out of my sight before I do something we both regret.”

“Her violence frightened me. She always claimed that I was the jealous one, and I was often jealous, but when I saw things working against me I simply became disgusted and withdrew. Lydia was different. She reacted. She was the Head Cheerleader at the Game of Violence.”