Their desire was silent yet magnificent, like a thousand daisies attuning their faces toward the path of the sun.

We knew the pain of winter rushing up your skirt, and the ache of keeping your knees together in class, and how drab and infuriating it was to jump rope while the boys played baseball. We could never understand why the girls cared so much about being mature, or why they felt compelled to compliment each other.

She thought a writer should work harder writing a book than she did reading it.

The humming of my parents' voices from behind my bedroom wall, which throughout my childhood had filled me with a sense of security, had now become a source of anxiety and panic.

So do boys and men announce their intentions. They cover you like a sarcophagus lid. And call it love.

If you talk to geneticists they are constantly finding that your genes are being switched on and off because of the environment. Genes alone do not determine an exact path in your life.

no reason to mention my peculiarities, my wandering in the maze these many years, shut away from sight. and from love, too.