“By the time the lecture ended and the audience awoke, she had built up a splendid fortune for herself (not the first founded on paper)…”

“It wouldn't be the first time she had seen herself obliged to accept with smothered irony other people's interpretation of her conduct. She often ended by giving up to them --it seemed really the way to live --the version that met their convenience.”

“Adrian had always found it amusing that a guy could be drilling Stacia up her ass while she considered herself to be a virgin. Her intent had been to present herself as such when she found "Mr. Right.”

“The condemned social order has not been built up on paper and ink, and I don't fancy that a combination of paper and ink will ever put an end to it.”

“She looked at her own past, and, for the first time, she forgave herself: it hadn't beenher fault, but the faultof that insecure little boy, who had given up after the first attempt.”

“Devon? Are you okay?" For the first time, Dom's voice sounds unsure. Devon sats nothing, not one word. She pushes herself up. She slides the papers toward herself. She slowly folds them into quarters. She closes her hand around them. Devon lifts her face to Dom's. Is she "okay"? Will she ever, ever be okay?”