Pieces of Her

He pulled over another man, gray-haired but wearing a fashionable, teal-colored jacket.

You didn’t hate someone unless part of you still loved them.

I’m magnificent because I am so uniquely me.” Laura pressed her hand to her heart. “I am talented. And I am beautiful. I am amazing. And I found my way, Nick. And it was the right way because it was the path that I set out for myself.”

The gentle way he had stroked her. The intimate, lingering touches at the curve of her back. He had been the first man who had ever made love to her.

I thought that being in love meant being on pins and needles all of the time. Passion and fury and arguing and making up.”

She had worried for so long that her daughter had inherited all of her weakness, but now Laura saw that she’d passed on her resilience, too.

I felt a cleaving in my Mind—

As if my Brain had split—

I tried to match it—Seam by Seam—

But could not make them fit.

The thought behind, I strove to join

Unto the thought before—

But Sequence ravelled out of Sound

Like Balls—upon a Floor.

—Emily Dickinson

It’s not that he wouldn’t fuck you if he needed to, but you’re so brazenly desperate for any show of kindness. Not giving it to you was much more effective than giving it to you. Right?

Rage is a luxury.”

“Rage is a fucking narcotic.”

There was a difference between despising someone and murdering them.