“I hope we're not intruding,' she croons, sweetly. "Well, I say, "I was trying to get a little work done." I give T.J. a fuck-you-I-don't-look-weird-get-the-hell-out-of-here-look, but apparently only I know what the look is meant to convey.”

“Look," I say at last. 'You know me. You know my life. I always thought-or hoped-""You thought what?""I just want to be happy," I finally say.She stares at me hard."You have been," she says.”

“You're into happiness?" the technician says, her eyes never leaving the computer screen."I'm writing a book about it," I say."About happiness?" she says."Yes," I say." Didn't the Dali Lama already write that book?”

“Clearly I have a talent now: I can trace every single thing back to a certain, scared place in the map of my heart.”

“The language of sex seemed to echo with Shop: as a Playboy, apparently, you got hammered or plastered, then you nailed or screwed or drilled a woman who was built, or had a rack.”

“I slide down between the sheets beside him, like a secret letter slipped into the safety of an envelope. And dream of ancient places, where everyone is young.”

“Cabel gives her a quizzical look. "I am totally not getting enough attention here.”