Mar. 20th, 2011


Stephanie I don't care about at all; Dolly I can root for.
  • Her own appearance in two separate locations having apparently fulfilled some triangulation Kathy required as proof of personhood.
  • When Clay and Kathy moved on she was beset by a giddiness that shamed her. It was the silliest victory of her life.
  • the innocuous Crandale namescape
  • Time’s a goon, right? Isn’t that the expression?”
  • Suicide is a weapon; that we all know. But what about an art?” He watched Stephanie anxiously: a big, ailing man with one bold idea left, ablaze with hope that she would like it.
My favorite story in this book. If only I had known just to read this one.
  • In unfolding herself, she felt the painful thing settle inside her. Her knees shook from its new, awkward weight.
  • Your client is a genocidal dictator.
  • It was the hat. He looked sweet in the hat. How could a man in a fuzzy blue hat have used human bones to pave his roads?
  • And then they began to collapse, flop and drape and fall away, sending scalding oil onto the heads of every glamorous person in the country and some other countries, too.
  • Her guests shrieked and staggered and covered their heads, tore hot, soaked garments from their flesh and crawled over the floor like people in medieval altar paintings whose earthly luxuries have consigned them to hell.
  • It didn’t matter how many thousands he’d slaughtered—if the collective vision of him could include a dance floor, all that would be behind him.
  • She was part of a weave of girls at Miss Rutgers’s School, a mesh so fine and scarily intimate...
  • Not in apology—Lulu had nothing to apologize for—but in sympathy that things had to be so hard for both of them.
  • “I know who was there,” Dolly said. “I’ve still got the list in my head.” “But…who are you?” Kitty said, still smiling.
  • Assassins had never managed to locate the general with any precision, but the photographers made it look easy: scores of them surging across the borders without visas,
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