In every end, there is also a beginning.

I thought research would be more glamorous, somehow. I'd give the librarian a secret code word and he'd give me the one book I needed and whisper the necessary page numbers. Like a speakeasy. With books.

The beast attempts a beautific look that could be mistaken for a bout of painful wind.

She hadn’t meant to get trapped in a conversation. That was the trouble with offering help to old people.

I don't have time to feel sorry for myself. I've got to think.

Sitting in my favorite coffeehouse with a new notebook and a hot cup of java is my idea of Heaven.

Just once I’d like to meet a fella who isn’t a phony. Somebody who doesn’t wanna buy me a fur so he can show me off to his boys.