“Her lips are moving silently around words I recognize. 'I carry you like my own personal Time Machine, as I put on my lipstick, smile, and head out to the party.' It's a line by one of her favourite poets, a woman named Donna Carnes, whose husband went out to sail in San Francisco Bay and had not been seen since. I love it too. How many parties have I gone to over the years, and laughed, and had a good time, while still managing to hold Denise close?”
Book:Bright Young Women