The Story Of Her Life. God Gave

I Was Tired Of Men. Hanging In Doorways, Standing Too Close, Men Who Made You Love Them Then Changed Their Minds.

...you Know The Mistrust Of Heights Is The Mistrust Of Self, You Don't Know Whether You're Going To Jump.

It's Their Skins I'm Peeling," She Said. "the Skins Of The Insipid Scribblers, Which I Graft To The Page, Creating Monsters Of Meaninglessness.

Love Is A Check, That Can Be Forged, That Can Be Cashed. Love Is A Payment That Comes Due.

She Should Think About Her Own Soul, What She Was Going To Do With This Funky Tattered Pond Dank Item. Dark And Stained, A Ruined Thing.