“End production today. Wrap party as usual a little sad. Slow danced with Scarlett. Broke her toe. Not my fault. When she dipped me back, I stepped on it.Penélope and Javier anxious to work with me again. Said if I ever come up with another screenplay to try and find them.Goodbye drink with Rebecca. Sentimental moment.Everyone in cast and crew chipped in and bought me a ballpoint pen.”

“I could see my mother going in Spaulding's and asking the salesman a million dopy questions - and here I was getting the ax again. It mad me feel pretty sad. She bought me the wrong kind of skates - I wanted racing skates and she bought me hockey - but it made me sad anyway. Almost every time somebody gives me a present, it ends up making me sad.”

“That's when Sam grabbed my hand. "I love this song!" She led me to the dance floor. And she started dancing. And I started dancing. It was a fast song, so I wasn't very good, but she didn't seem to mind. We were just dancing, and that was enough. The song ended, and then a slow one came on. She looked at me. I looked at her. Then, she took my hands and pulled me in to dance slow. I don't know how to dance slow very well either, but I do know how to sway. Her whisper smelled like cranberry juice and vodka. "I looked for you in the parking lot today." I hoped mine still smelled like toothpaste. "I was looking for you, too." Then, we were quiet for the rest of the song. She held me a little closer. I held her a little closer. And we kept dancing. It was the one time all day that I really wanted the clock to stop. And just be there for a long time.”

“It's my turn to see you through,' she whispers, coming back to me and wrapping me in her blanket as I lose my shit all over again. She holds me until I recover my Y chromosome.”

“Try an’ try,” he said, “but when it comes day’s end, I can’t wash the pig off me. And your mother never complains. Not once, in all these years, has she ever said that I smell strong. I said once to her that I was sorry.” “What did Mama say?” “She said I smelled of honest work, and that there was no sorry to be said or heard.”

“You are a very sharp-tongued little girl," mother said, looking up at me. I am two inches taller than she is. "Unless you learn to curb yourself, there will be no parties for you, and no party dresses." This was the speach [sic] that broke the Camel's back. I could endure no more. "I think," I said, "that I shall get married and end everything." Need I explain that I had no serious intention of taking the fatal step? But it was not deliberate mendasity[sic]. It was Despair.”