The writing I tend to think of as 'good' is good because it's mysterious.

Light is good company, when alone; I took my comfort where I found it, and the warmest yellow bulb in the living-room lamp had become a kind of radiant babysitter all its own.

I knew if I ate anything of hers again, it would lkely tell me the same message: help me, I am not happy, help me -- like a message in a bottle sent in each meal to the eater, and I got it. I got the message.

...a Dorito asks nothing of you, which is its great gift. It only asks that you are not there.

To see someone you love, in a bad setting, is one of the great barometers of gratitude.

You're the perfect girl', he said, rubbing his chin. 'You expect nothing.

But what I kept wondering about is this: that first second when she felt her skirt burning, what did she think? Before she knew it was candles, did she think she'd done it herself? With the amazing turns of her hips, and the warmth of the music inside her, did she believe, for even one glorious second, that her passion had arrived?