The first stab of love is like a sunset, a blaze of color - oranges, pearly pinks, vibrant purples.

She considered herself unconventional.

We see our sins reflected everywhere: in the pallor of our intimates’ faces, in the scratching of tree branches against windows, in the strange movements of everyday objects. These may be messages from God or tricks of the eye, but in neither case are we permitted to ignore them.

Girls took to dressing like boys, and though women had obtained the vote, we had swiftly moved on to pursuing flashier freedoms: necking in cars and smoking cigarettes and walking down city streets in flesh colored stockings.

To look in the face of hard things and keep moving forward - that's what one has to do.

She was like a heroine in a novel that she herself was writing the character kept protesting that she was too strong for love and yet the narrator went on describing her desire.

She found herself longing for home-not just for the hotel but for New York and all the real novels that she could lose herself in there.