“I can feel the tingling in my hand as if I've already slapped her, so right does it feel.”

“I set my hand on top of his and guide it to my chest, so its right over my heart. "Feel my heartbeat. Can you feel it?""Yes.""Feel how steady it is?""It's fast.”

“You must be all a-tingle with excitement.''I guess so,' I said, but I did not feel a-tingle. I did not feel a-anything.”

“Camille?" Her voice quiet and girlish and unsure. "You know how people sometimes say they have to hurt because if they don't, they're so numb they won't feel anything?""Mmm.""What if it's the opposite?" Amma whispered. "What if you hurt because it feels so good? Like you have a tingling, like someone left a switch on in your body. And nothing can turn that switch off except hurting? What does that mean?"I pretended to be asleep. I pretended not to feel her fingers tracing vanish over and over on the back of my neck.”

“I've given her signs! I've given her plenty of signs. What does she want me to do? Slap him across the face with my glove, and challenge him to pistols at dawn?”

“Just being near the water makes me ache for it, makes my skin tingle with the desire to run until I am chest-deep and the water wraps around my skin like a satin ribbon, making the worries, the aches, the stress unwind. Sometimes, I wonder if this is how a recovering alcoholic would feel if someone put a beer in her hand. If her body would wage war against her mind as mine does.”