“Pablo’s many stories and reminiscences about Olga and Marie-Thérese and Dora Maar, as well as their continuing presence just offstage in our own life together, gradually made me realize that he had a kind of Bluebeard complex that made him want to cut off the heads of all women he had collected in his private museum. But he didn’t cut the heads entirely off. He preferred to have life go on and to have all those women who had shared his life at one moment or another still letting out little peeps and cries of joy or pain and making a few gestures like disjointed dolls, just to prove there was some life left in them, that it hung by a thread, and that he held the other end of the thread. From time to time they would provide a humorous or dramatic or sometimes tragic side to things, and that was all grist to his mill.”

“I dunno.” She sat on the bench and hugged the robe like a pillow. “I still think that Brett guy is cute.””Good luck getting him away from Bekka.” Cleo gathered her silky black hair into a high pony and pink-dabbed Smith’s Rosebud Salve on her lips. “She’s got more grip than Crazy Glue.””More cling than Saran Wrap,” Lala added.”More hold than Final Net.” Cleo giggled.”More possession than The Exorcist,” Lala managed.”More clench than butt cheeks,” Blue chimed in.”More competition than American Idol,” Frankie stuck out her chest and showed them her diva booty roll.The girls burst out laughing.”Nice!” Blue lifted her purple gloved hand.Frankie slapped it without a single spark.”I hate to be a downer…” Claudine shuffled back into the conversation wearing her slippers and robe. “But that girl will destroy you if she catches you with Brett.””I’m not worried,” Frankie tossed her hair back. “I’ve seen all the teen movies, and the nice girl gets the boy in the end.”

“If you try to find a replacement, you’ll be sadly disappointed, I can’t be replaced. I’m the only man in all the world who possesses the right combination of qualities for you.You can turn your Ballister stare upon me all you like, but you can’t petrify me. You can knock me about to your heart’s content without worrying about doing any damage. You can perpetrate any sort of outrage your wicked mind conceives and be sure I’ll join in, with a will. You’re a troublemaker, Lydia. A Ballister devil. Nothing less than a Mallory hellion would ever suit you.”- Vere Mallory -”

“I love you. You’re mine. I’ll kill any bastard who tries to take you from me.”

“So much of the language of love was like that: you devoured someone with your eyes, you drank in the sight of him, you swallowed him whole. Love was substance, broken down and beating through your bloodstream.”