“What have you done to your hair?” Mom’s broken voice said, pinning me back to this tiny hospitalroom.“Holy shit!” Icka patted her head as if searching. “You think the nurse stole it? She looked shady.”

“Follow your curiosity and serve yourself a unique blend of books that no one else is reading. Read for variety. The more different types of voices you read, the more your brain will get the message that it’s okay to be who you are.”

“I didn't see myself as the busty type. Too bad bodies are issued randomly, not selected to match your personality”

“Toward the end of that session at the Hudson, our instructor split us into two long lines and took out a bouquet of multicolored feathers.'I would normally give the feathers to the ladies,' she explained as she passed them out, 'but we will have to make do.' Out of fifty or so front-of-the-house employees present, there were maybe six or seven women. 'The point of this dance is to think about giving and receiving,' she said, pressing play on her tiny boom box. A slow and stately march started playing through tinny speakers, a march to which we learned a simple dance: stepping up to our partner to give him the feather, stepping back to a bow, taking his hand, turning around, receiving the feather again, and stepping back to the line. 'Are you starting to feel each other's sense of space?' she called out. Someone sneezed.As the dance went on, we grew more comfortable with one another, fighting and roughhousing over the props.'I've been defeathered!''Giveth the feather backeth or I will have to unsheathe my sword!”

“You may wear your virtues as a crown,As you walk through life serenely,And grace your simple rustic gownWith a beauty more than queenly.Though only one for you shall care,One only speak your praises;And you never wear in your shining hair,A richer flower than daisies.”

“I hear you're a writer,' said 2040..."What are you writing about?'Not liking to discuss my writing with strangers, I had been privately auditioning possible conversation stoppers, but I didn't think that I would ever have the nerve to use one. But now, in the most awkward of situations, it seemed appropriate.'Actually, I'm writing a biography,' I responded casually. 'About a man in Alaska who makes foie gras from penguins.”

“Who are you?' Andre demanded when I refused an ice-cream cone a few weeks later. 'The woman I fell in love with never said no to ice cream.''The woman you fell in love with could also stand to lose a few pounds.''Are you kidding? My prenup is going to have a weight minimum. You lose a pound, I dock you.'Yup, this one was worth fighting for.”