Samantha Bee

Our family car was the antithesis of designs and desirability. It was like driving Hitler’s moustache.

Our family car was the antithesis of designs and desirability. It was like driving Hitler’s moustache.

– Samantha Bee –

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Tana French

So what are you thinking?” I asked. I meant about the case, obviously, but Cassie was in a giddy mood–she generates more energy than most people, and she’d been sitting indoors most of the day. “Will you listen to him? A woman asking a guy what he’s thinking is the ultimate crime, she’s clingy and needy and he runs a mile, but when it’s the other–” “Behave yourself,” I said, pulling her hood over her face. “Help! I’m being oppressed!” she yelled through it. “Call the Equality Commission.” The stroller girl gave us a sour look. “You’re overexcited,” I told Cassie. “Calm down or I’ll take you home with no ice cream.

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