“Sitting under a tree, I studied my options. The fall flowers were in full bloom: verbena, goldenrod, chrysanthemum, and a late-blooming rose. The carefully tended city beds around the park held layers of textured evergreen but little color. I set… — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share Image
“Bowing my head, I dipped my nose into the bouquet I'd assembled. There was flax, and forget-me-not, and hazel. There were white roses and pink ones, helenium and periwinkle, primrose, and lots and lots of bellflower. Between the tightly wrapped… — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share Image
“Here you are, obsessed with romantic language-a language invented for expression between lovers-and you use it to spread animosity.” — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share
“I pinched tendrils of periwinkle at the roots until they hung in long, limp strands, and grabbed a dozen bright white spider mums. I… — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share
“So, what’s your secret?” Renata asked. I squinted my eyes in question, tightened my shoulders. “To staying thin?” she asked. “When you eat like… — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share
“I studied the way the individual flowers clustered around the single stalk, their sharp points fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. Something about… — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share
“I had been loyal to nothing except the language of flowers. If I started lying about it, there would be nothing in my life… — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share
“Do you really think you’re the only human being alive who is unforgivably flawed? Who’s been hurt almost to the point of breaking?” — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share
“Have you ever given anyone a red rose?" Grant asked. I looked at him as if he was trying to force-feed me foxglove. "Moss… — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share
“Elizabeth went from stand to stand as if I wasn't there, exchanging cash for heavy bags of produce: pink-and-white-striped beans, tan-colored pumpkins with long… — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share
She was perfect. I knew this the moment she emerged from my body, white and wet and wailing. Beyond the requisite ten fingers and… — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share
“What're you reading?" "Gertrude Stein." I shook my head. I'd never heard of her. "The poet?" he asked. "You know, 'A rose is a… — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share
“While I worked, I thought about Earl's wife, tried to bring forth an image of the once-passionate woman: her tired, withdrawn, unsuspecting face. Would… — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share
“When my hunger grew to the point of distraction, I climbed onto buses and rode to the Marina, Fillmore Street, or Pacific Heights. I… — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share
