“Then she said, with mock horror, "She's going to bring some of her old wigs, if you can believe it." She rubbed her bare head with her free hand. "I'll look like a zombie Margaret Thatcher.”

“call out if you need a hand. if she looks like she's going to have you, i'll sneak up behind her and whach her on the head with a stiff rabbit”

“She put her hand to her head and was about to plead a headache when she glanced at Barbra, who gave her a look that said, I wouldn’t if I were you...”

“I need you,” she said with such determination that it was like declaring war. I watched her lips as she said it. If she wanted war, she was going to get war.I smiled.Then I threw caution to the wind and did the thing I’d been dreaming about doing. I lunged for her, grabbing her face in my hands, bringing her mouth to mine.”

“She put her hands to her face and rubbed, then dug her fingers into her scalp, trying to massage some life back into her tired brain.”

“Then she let him lick her fingers for her. He ran his tongue around the small ovals of her nails. This was the closest she could get to him without becoming food: she was in him, or part of her was in part of him. Sex was the other way around: While that was going on, he was in her. I'll make you mine, lovers said in old books. They never said, I'll make you me.”