It was possible that I'd thrown one too many Molotov cocktails over God's fence.

Sam," she said, and I crushed her to me.

You'll have to go commando." "Is there any other way?

What were you thinking about? When I came in?" "Being Sam," I said. "What a nice thing to be," Grace said. And then she smiled, bigger and bigger, until I felt my expression mirror hers, our noses touching.

I could just barely see the dark curve of his shoulder, and something about the shape it made, the gesture it suggested, filled me with a sort of fierce, awful affection.

Wow, you're never allowed to sleep late again. You're crankier than a fat guy in stilettos.

A frightening menagerie, my emotions are Too many and varied to number Like creatures they crawl and they fly above Tearing my body asunder.