What is the greater good but tyranny’s chameleon?
He’d made her feel what Barrons made me feel. Bigger than I could possibly be, larger than life, on fire with possibilities, ecstatic to be breathing, impatient for the next moment together. She’d been happy in those last months, so alive and happy.
When he’d pushed inside me and I’d feel him begin to penetrate, it had turned me into a wild thing-hot, wet, and desperate for more of him. With every kiss, every caress, every thrust, I’d just needed more. He’d touched me, I went nuts. The world dwindled down to one thing: him.
He knows what I’m thinking. Always. We’re connected. The atoms between us ferry messages back and forth.
Women have been repeating the same mistake since time began: falling for a man’s potential. We rarely see it the same way, and even more rarely care to achieve it.
Moth to a flame I follow.
On the lips of my enemy, my sister’s lover, my lover’s killer, I taste the punishment I deserve. I taste oblivion.
Regardless of how many people I surrounded myself with, no matter how many friends and family I loved and was loved by in return, I was alone at the moment of being born and at the moment of dying. Nobody came with you and nobody went with you. It was a journey of one.
You can’t look at someone with your eyes and take their measure. You have to look with the heart.
You and I more than anyone else in the universe are perfect for each other.
I’m Pri-ya again. I always will be with this man.
My heart has jet lag.
My world we humans we’re just pawns on an immortal chessboard.
Yesterday is skin on snake, to be shed many times.
If I entered a tropical beach, would I end up in Nazi Germany with my highly inconvenient black hair?
The kind of person that thanks another person never survives. Have you learned nothing?
We’re taking back the night.
Although it may not seem like it, this isn’t a story about darkness. It’s about light. Kahlil Gibran says Your joy can fill you only as deeply your sorrow has carved you. If you’ve never tasted bitterness, sweet is just another pleasant flavor on your tongue. One day I’m going to hold a lot of joy.
Liminal sucks. You can’t grasp it with your hands and shape it. You can’t make midnight come faster, or grow up sooner, or avoid the in-betweens. You can only hang in there, and get through them.
She’s my baby girl, Quinn. I want love for her. Real love. The kind that makes a man crazy inside. -Gibraltar to Quinn.