Cinderella!" Dov Cried. "let Down

Perhaps It's Not That I'm Frigid-- It's That Once I Decide I Like A Guy, I Turn Into A Raging Idiot, Unfit For Public Appearances.

Prayer Or Not, I Want To Believe That, Despite All Evidence To The Contrary, It Is Possible For Anyone To Find That One Special Person. That Person To Spend Christmas With Or Grow Old With Or Just To Take A Nice Silly Walk In Central Park With. Somebody Who Wouldn't Judge Another For The Prepositions They Dangle, Or Their Run-on Sentences, And Who In Turn Wouldn't Be Judged For The Snobbery Of Their Language Etymology Inclinations.

Why Should I Tell You?" He Asked, With No Small Amount Of Petulance. "if You Tell Me, I Will Leave You Alone," I Said. "and If You Don't Tell Me, I'm Going To Grab The Nearest Ghostwritten James Patterson Romance Novel And I Am Going To Follow You Through This Store Reading It Out Loud Until You Relent." Now I Could See The Fright Beneath The Defiance.

It's Bullshit To Think Of Friendship And Romance As Being Different. They're Not. They're Just Variations Of The Same Love. Variations Of The Same Desire To Be Close.

I Mean, I Think I Am Basically A Cool Girl, But I Am Also A Pain In The Ass.