“But maybe I ought to practise a little now?So people who know me are not too shocked and surprisedWhen suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.”

“Pam: I don't know what it is about me that makes people think I want to hear their problems. Maybe I smile too much. Maybe I wear too much pink. But please remember I can rip your throat out if I need to. And also know that I am not a hooker. That was a long, long time ago.”

“I once laughed at the vanity of women of thirty or forty who whitened their ruddy old skin with lead, but now I know such salves are not disguises for old crones who wish to catch a young husband. Instead they are only a mask we wear so that we can, for a little while, still recognize ourselves.”

“Thank you seems like too little...or maybe too much, since he couldn't possibly understand how much I needed to hear what he just said. How much I needed to know that even without my ability, I am someone worth knowing. That every little and ridiculous quality I exhibit makes me who I am.”

“Warning, When I'm An Old Woman, I Shall Wear Purple!”

“I started zipping up my pants when something occurred to me. "I'm wearing a purple thong." "You're wearing a purple thong?" Jack raised an eyebrow, but since I was drunk, I couldn't read on his emotions. I didn't know if it was an intrigued I'd-like-to-see-more eyebrow, or a disapproving you're-a-huge-slut eyebrow. "Yeah. Wanna see?”