How Can My Ankles And Arms Be

On The Bowery, In The Ornate Carcass Of A Formerly Grand Vaudeville Theater, A Dance Marathon Limps Along. The Contestants, Young Girls And Their Fellas, Hold One Another Up, Determined To Make Their Mark, To Bite Back At The Dreams Sold To Them In Newspaper Advertisements And On The Radio. They Have Sores On Their Feet But Stars In Their Eyes.

I Am For Hockey. I Find I Should Like To Hit Something With A Stick. -gemma Doyle Trilogy

Evie Wanted To Cry. From Fear. From Exhaustion, Yes. But Mostly From The Cruel Uselessness, The Damned Stupid Arbitrariness Of It All.

I'm Floating Inside My Skin. I Could Go On Floating Like This For Days. Right Now, The Real World With Its Heartbreak And Disappointments Is Just A Pulse Against The Protective Membrane We've Drunk Ourselves Into. It's Somewhere Outside Us, Waiting." A Great And Terrible Beauty, Page 141, By

Evie Replied With An Eye-roll. “do You Think You Can Manage To Not Steal Anything While I’m Gone?” “the Only Thing I’m Trying To Steal Is Your Heart, Doll.” Sam Smirked. “you’re Not That Talented A Thief, Sam Lloyd.