Yes, I have loved, Ms. Lane, and although it's none of your business, I have lost. Many things.

I want you to go to the Ancient Languages Department at Trinity College tomorrow morning, Ms.Lane.

Just saying, things ain't always bad just 'cause you don't understand 'em or ain't like 'em. That's like thinking anybody who's smarter or faster is dangerous just 'cause they got more brains or quicker feet. Ain't fair. Peeps can't help how they're born.

I have your word?” “You trust my word?” “You’re an idealistic fool. Of course.

The illusions it had woven for me had taken place only in my head. The battle had been invisible to the naked eye, but the hard ones are.

So how did he look at me?" "Like it was his birthday and you were the cake.

Barrons knows virtually everything about me. I wouldn’t be surprised if somewhere he has a little file that encompasses my entire life to date, with neatly mounted, acerbically captioned photos—see Mac sunbathe, see Mac paint her nails, see Mac almost die.