Hey,โ the cabbie yelled. โHowโs about a tip?โ โYou bet-ski,โ Evie said, heading toward the old Victorian mansion, her long silk scarf trailing behind her. โDonโt kiss strange men in Penn Station.
Libba BrayWhen I dream, I dream of him. For several nights now heโs come to me, waving from a distant shore as if heโs been waiting patiently for me to arrive. He doesnโt utter a word, but his smile says everything: Iโve missed you.
Libba BrayAll the small, simple, conscious acts of living a sudden defense against the dying we do every day.
Libba BrayWill was making a speech, something about having been young and careless once, the sort of thing old-timers said when they issued a deathblow, as if they thought their sanctimonious ramblings disguised as empathy would be welcomed, but Evie was only half listening.
Libba BrayThe Corporation would like to apologize for the preceding pages. Of course, it's not all right for girls to behave this way. Sexuality is not meant to be this way - an honest, consensual expression in which a girl might take an active role when she feels good and ready and not one minute before. No. Sexual desire is meant to sell soap. And cars. And beer. And religion.
Libba Bray