"

I don't have a lot of patience for stories in which women are rescued by men.

"

So," he asked. "How's death?""Hard," she said. "It just keeps going.

"

Everything that is,casts a shadow

"

He was cold, standing in a wood, talking to a big black bird who was currently brunching on Bambi.

"

You're a poem?' I repeated.She chewed her lower lip. 'If you want. I am a poem, or I am a pattern, or a race of people whose whose world was swallowed...more

"

I will not be my father's dog.