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“The pen between my fingers is sensuous, alive almost: I can feel its power…
Pen Is Envy. Aunt Lydia would say.”
“We can be read from it by him,
but we cannot read.” -p94
“There is no such thing as a sterile man anymore, not officially.
There are only women who are fruitful and women who are barren, that's the law.”
He doesn’t mind this, I thought. He doesn’t mind it at all. Maybe he even likes it.
We are not each other’s, anymore. Instead, I am his.
She was not stunned, the way I was. In some strange way she was gleeful,
as if this was what she’d been expecting“
