“My new friend," she said. "I met him at the farmers' market." Friend? Now there was some code. Suddenly, I realized why Patricia [his grandma] had sex on her mind, and then, just as suddenly, I had this whole new batch of unwanted images and thoughts. "So what do you think, hon? Saturday night, maybe?" Patricia asked my back. I leaned farther into the refrigerator. "Uhhh..." Milk, orange juice, pickles, mustard, canola oil, cream cheese, my grandmother having sex, please God, make it stop--Hon?”

“People make mistakes; they do the wrong things. Sometimes they're annoying. Sometimes they're awful. (That's true for me, too, by the way.)So how do you know when it's time to give up? And do you know when to hang in there? I guess you don't really. You just make your choices and hope for the best.”

“I'd seen him around town for a year or so before he made a move on me. I'd heard good and bad things about him. One friend said he was just out for sex. Another said he was a romantic at heart. What the hell, I thought. I needed sex and romance in my life. Sometimes I believe I would have taken one without the other.”

“Simon,” she whispered, vaguely surprised that she had just used his first name, for she had never used it even in the privacy of her thoughts. Moistening her dry lips, she tried once more, and to her astonishment, she did it again. “Simon…”“Yes?” A new tension had entered his long, hard body, and at the same time, his hand moved over the shape of her skull in the softest caress possible.“Please… take me to my room.”Hunt tilted her head back gently and regarded her with a sudden faint smile playing on his lips. “Sweetheart, I would take you to Timbuktu if you asked.”

“In the jumbled, fragmented memories I carry from my childhood there are probably nearly as many dreams as images from waking life. I thought of one which might have been my earliest remembered nightmare. I was probably about four years old - I don't think I'd started school yet - when I woke up screaming. The image I retained of the dream, the thing which had frightened me so, was an ugly, clown-like doll made of soft red and cream-coloured rubber. When you squeezed it, bulbous eyes popped out on stalks and the mouth opened in a gaping scream. As I recall it now, it was disturbingly ugly, not really an appropriate toy for a very young child, but it had been mine when I was younger, at least until I'd bitten its nose off, at which point it had been taken away from me. At the time when I had the dream I hadn't seen it for a year or more - I don't think I consciously remembered it until its sudden looming appearance in a dream had frightened me awake. When I told my mother about the dream, she was puzzled.'But what's scary about that? You were never scared of that doll.' I shook my head, meaning that the doll I'd owned - and barely remembered - had never scared me. 'But it was very scary,' I said, meaning that the reappearance of it in my dream had been terrifying. My mother looked at me, baffled. 'But it's not scary,' she said gently. I'm sure she was trying to make me feel better, and thought this reasonable statement would help. She was absolutely amazed when it had the opposite result, and I burst into tears.Of course she had no idea why, and of course I couldn't explain. Now I think - and of course I could be wrong - that what upset me was that I'd just realized that my mother and I were separate people. We didn't share the same dreams or nightmares. I was alone in the universe, like everybody else. In some confused way, that was what the doll had been telling me. Once it had loved me enough to let me eat its nose; now it would make me wake up screaming. ("My Death")”

“I love you," Sam said, and set his mouth against hers, and broke off the kiss because he had to say it again. "I love you."Lucy's trembling fingers came to his lips, caressing them gently, "Are you sure? How do you know it's not just about sex?""It is about sex...sex with your mind, sex with your soul, sex with the color of your eyes, the smell of your skin. I want to sleep in your bed. I want you to be the first thing I see every morning and the last thing I see at night. I love you the way I never thought I could love anyone.”

“She swore vengeance on all men with dark hearts.”