Henry turned his hat in his hands but went on looking at Diana in a way that made her want to crawl into his arms and stay there forever.

That was how the heroine of a book would play it and Diana was still writing her own story the best heroines she'd always believed took their fate into their own hands.

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.

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.

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.

In New York there is always something to look at, but it is all infinitely more interesting through a window in the backseat of a limousine.

Her life, she realized, had all the charm of a steel trap.