I've always considered myself a feminist, which is such a tough word for people. Some people immediately assume that you're angry or you hate men, which is obviously not true.

How old are you? Twelve?" "Fourteen & three quarters." His eyes sparkled. "You're kind of little for fourteen and three quarters." "Am not," I replied indignantly. "I'm a sophomore this year. How old are you?" "Seventeen and two fifths." Hardy Cateses & Liberty Jones.

Want to try it?" Dad offered, patting the arm of the chair. "Fifteen different kinds of massage. It analyzes your back muscles and makes recommendations. It also grabs and stretches the thigh and calf muscles." "No, thanks. I prefer my furniture to keep its hands to itself.

I'm not the marrying kind -" St. Vincent snorted. "No man is. Marriage is a female invention.

Some people there's no getting over.

Somehow I knew that no matter what I chose to tell or to keep secret, he would understand.

Neither of us seemed able to be close to anyone. Not even each other. Closeness meant the one you loved the most would cause you the most damage. How did you unlearn that? It was woven deep between every fiber and vessel. You couldn't cut it out.