“And in a blinding flash my wedding dress, which is hung right there, opposite me, in the corner of the bedroom, comes alive. The heavy satin rustles like it’s just about to breathe. The lace trembles in the cold air. And for a moment the beading glitters. It blinks, like it’s trying to bring back some memory. So bright, so dazzling! Then the dress sinks back into the dark.”

“I went back to the ocean for a wash. The salt stung my face. I didn't know my skin was so raw. I slung my backpack over my shoulders, and with the white mosquito netting wrapped around me like a wedding dress, I went back into the jungle.”

“It’s never the wedding dresses, you know. We keep those, too, but only because they’re so blooming expensive. No. I’ve seen enough old ladies’ closets to know what we really hold on to. Not the till-death-do-us-part dresses. It’s those first lovely dresses: the slow dance dresses, the good-night-kiss dresses. It’s those first pangs we hold on to.”

“I drink coffee like goats walk on tightropes. It’s fun to watch, but it sure would be easier if this monkey dressed like a cowboy would get off my back.”

“It’s just like Marissa to jump right in with the heavy artillery, like guilt and extortion.I’m so proud to be related to the devil’s mistress.”

“It’s not about the dress you wear, but it’s about the life you lead in the dress.”