He had held out shakily, like a tree that had been hacked down to its breaking point. But that kiss was the last swing, the final impact, and he gave in finally, felled.
—Sarah Blakley-Cartwright
She didn’t want to be considered a woman yet, wasn’t ready to be the recipient of jewelry from men.
His leaving had been like snipping off the end of a rope – leaving two unraveling strands.
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