In mah olden age, I’m bashfully realizing that the real reason I love that so much is because it’s how I write with the book babies to build the grievechronic universe. Each book is an instrument in the hands of a demented cherub… & you hear them all creeping to that point when they’re gonna freefall together. It’s supersonic counterpoint. I never stood a chance against this song.

Angel, on when I grow Up by the pussycat dolls.