People don't save other people. People save themselves.

Household objects lost meaning. A bedside clock became a hunk of molded plastic, telling something called time, in a world marking it's passage for some reason.

Can you see me? All of me? Probably not. No one ever really has.

our job was merely to create the noise that seemed to fascinate them.

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.

The Pulitzer Prize is an idea; it's a vote of confidence. Like literature, it exists purely in the mind.

We knew, finally, that the girls were really women in disguise, that they understood love and even death, and that our job was merely to create the noise that seemed to fascinate them.