I thought if only I had a keen, shapely bone structure to my face or could discuss politics shrewdly or was a famous writer Constantin might find me interesting enough to sleep with. And then I wondered if as soon as he came to like me he would sink into ordinariness, and if as soon as he came to love me I would find fault, the way I did with Buddy Willard and the boys before him.

I have stitched life into me like a rare organ

She stared at her reflection in the glossed shop windows as if to make sure, moment by moment, that she continued to exist.

There is a certain unique and strange delight about walking down an empty street alone.

But I wasn't sure. I wasn't sure at all. How did I know that someday―at college, in Europe, somewhere, anywhere―the bell jar, with its stifling distortions, wouldn't descend again?

I felt like a racehorse in a world without racetracks.

I'm happier writing about doctors than I would have been being one.