This body is breaking down, but I am not.

She thought she was independent and strong, but she got one small taste of love and she was hungrier than anyone. She was ravenous.

It was funny to hear her voice aloud. Her thoughts and perceptions usually existed so deep inside her, they rarely made it to the surface without a deliberate effort.

I knew her hair and her coloring and her shapes would be different next time, but the way she wore her body would keep on.

I always interpret coincidences as little clues to our destiny

She got under the covers and put her arms around the bag. She could smell Tibby. It used to be she couldn't smell Tibby's smell in the way you couldn't smell your own; it was too familiar. But tonight she could. This was some living part of Tibby still here and she held on to it. There was more of Tibby with her here and now than in what she had seen in the cold basement room that day.

She liked the life she had. She loved habits. She craved a day with nothing in it, a long, quiet stretch of hours in the studio.