Uh.. you'er Sophie?" Mrianda ventured
"That's me"
"How old areyou?"
Sophie rolled ker wide brown eyes,
"Ahunderd and forty-eight" she relied. "I got to live back when women coulden't vote, isn't that awesome?

I do not care for prejudice in any form. In my opinion, we women have been subjected to so much of it that I cannot see how anyone of my sex could fail to identify with those similarly oppressed.

She was famous, and she was insane.
Her voice soared out over the audience, holding them spellbound and enraptured, delivering their hopes and fears tangled in chords and rhythm. They called her an angel, her voice a gift.
She was famous, and she was a liar.

god, can you imagine getting married at nineteen?" miranda asked. "when i was nineteen i didnt even know how to do my own laundry." she added, for david's beneit, "you know, laundry? washing your own clothes? there are people who do that."

he rolled his eyes. "i know how to do laundry. i watched my wife do it dozens of times.

she decided no human man would ever touch her again. the doors to her body and heart were already locked, and she would give the key to only one man, perhaps someday...perhaps never...but all the same she didnt care about falling in love, or getting married, or any of that, anymore. it was too late for mortal men to stake any sort of claim to her affections. if she grews old and died alone, it would be in full posession of her heart.

and if she ever gave it, she would give it eternally, and without regret.

faith gaped at him"how the hell did you do this?"

He looked at her as if she'd asked the dumbest question in history. "I'm brilliant.