I suppose by most girls' standards, Armand is hot. But he shops more than a woman. I'm sure those are not the right words. Note to self: I must think of more masculine ways to describe Armand.

Father has occasionally taken Sarah to work and made embarrassing introductions to young interns. I can only imagine what humiliations are in store for me.

I'm sure love has its own means of survival, its preferred host, its ideal temperature, its own law of thermodynamics. Why else would women crave hot baths?

Sarah has read books on manners and good conduct, written in the language of the Arabs. I know she turned those pages. Watch her: perfect posture, grace in every step, perfect clothes. Not very fashionable, but clean and beautifully pressed.

Kam glanced back at Zoe. “Me and Saul are close.” Zoe smiled. “We are all Americans here. This is how this great nation was built--all for one and one for all.” Kam looked at Saul and rattled her head. “Wasn’t that the Three Musketeers?” –Michael Benzehabe, from the novel Unassimilated

Deep in the shadows, a hot ember from a lit cigarette glows. For a brief second, the light illumines the face of the famous chimp, Bosco, champion bicyclist. He stares back, emotionless, unimpressed. His relentless gaze makes me uncomfortable, self-conscious, intimidated.

You're no Mother, but after you arrived, we began to heal. We all felt it. Father speaks to us through you, and we, likewise, through you to him. Strange, but somehow you've returned the circulation to a dead household You arrived just in time With you here, I don't feel so bad about leaving.

The dean yanked the wrinkles from his suit vest. He adjusted his spectacles and, after a side-to-side waggle of the head, he tightened his bow tie. Placing both hands flat on his desk, he tipped forward, and radiated a practice glare--Superman style. Small wonder the visitor’s chair in front of him didn’t burst into flames.

This lunch, however, was going nowhere. Li Yong sat across the table running his mouth like a nervous sewing machine, never missing an opportunity for self-congratulations.

Rong Kang needed a college town that still embraced yesteryear, a place largely unknown to outsiders, a base where he could conspire at white linen tables, unnoticed. Claremont Village fit the bill.