Time heals. No, it doesn’t. At best, time is the great leveler, sweeping us all into coffins. We find ways to distract ourselves from the pain. Time is neither scalpel nor bandage. It is indifferent. Scar tissue is not a good thing. It is merely the wound’s other face.
Love knows no right or wrong. Love is. Only is.
Some things are sacred. Until you act like they’re not. Then you lose them.
It’s just that in the Deep South, women learn at a young age that when the world is falling apart around you, it’s time to take down the drapes and make a new dress.
I didn’t ask. Some things are better left unsaid. He looked at me and I shivered. I never get enough of him. Never will. He lives. I breathe. I want. Him. Always. Fire to my ice. Ice to my fever. Later we would go to bed, and when he rose over me, dark and vast and eternal, I’d know joy.
Four: If you try to force yourself into my head, I will force myself into your pants.
I have a black sense of humor. You try living my life, see what color yours turns.
No matter how people try to dispute it, perception is reality. Its what you choose to believe that makes you the person you are.
I’m not the hero, Mac. Never have been. Never will be. Let us be perfectly clear: I’m not the antihero, either, so quit waiting to discover my hidden potential. There’s nothing to redeem me.
God Said: Let there be light! I said: Say please.
Hope strengthens. Fear kills.
You, Ms. Lane, are a menace to others! A walking, talking catastrophe in pink!
The entire time I’m burning in Hell, I’ll regret each tear I made you weep. But if Hell were the price for twenty days with you, I’d condemn myself again and again. – Cian MacKeltar.
I said breathe. Not do a fish-out of-water imitation.
I see God in a sunrise, not in repetitious ritual.
Desire makes life happen. Makes it matter. Makes everything worth it. Desire is life. Hunger to see the next sunrise or sunset, to touch the one you love, to try again. “Hell would be waking up and wanting nothing,” he agrees.
See me when you look at me.
He’s trying not to laugh. I tell him I would have doomed mankind for him, and he’s trying not to laugh.
When insane things start to arrange themselves in sane patterns around you, you know you got problems.
It’s a strange new world out there and the rules have changed: It’s every princess for herself.