We All Just Took The Bookstore At

Tal Told Me He Loved Me, And Told Me And Told Me, But You Don't Tell Someone That And Then Tell Them They're Not Experienced Enough In Bed And Should Read A Book Or Something To Learn, Or They Should Try Wearing Deep-red Lipstick And Tight Skirts To Look Hot Like Their Best Friend Once In A While. If Tal Hadn't Lied To Me When He Said He Loved Me, I Might Not Be Without A Future Right Now, A Sucker Who Was So Chickenshit She Allowed Herself To Believe A False Dream From A False God. I'm Not Sure I Ever Even Liked Tal, Much Less Loved Him.

No One Would Want To Read A Book In Which I Explain The Science Of Cloning Because It Would Be Very Dull And It Would Also Make No Sense.

I Mean, Like Most Guys, You Carry Around This Girl In Your Head, Who Is Exactly Who You Want Her To Be. The Person You Think You Will Love The Most. And Every Girl You Are With Gets Measured Against This Girl In Your Head.

I Particularly Loved The Adjective Bookish, Which I Found Other People Used About As Often As Ramrod Or Chum Or Teetotaler.

She Told Me If I Clean All The Ashes Out Of The Grate, Then I’ll Be Able To Help My Sisters Get Ready For The Bal.” “it’s Christmas, Dashiel. Can’t You Give That Atitude A Rest?” “merry Christmas, Dad. And Thanks For The Presents.” “what Presents?” “i’m Sorry—those Were All From Mom, Weren’t They?