“The only place the broken past has in our present, is the place we give it.”
“I fucking want to do things Mercy. I want your pleasure, but God, I want your fucking pain,”
“Make love to me. Please. I’m dying for it, for you. And therein lay the other major problem. His body was a wreck along with his mind. His past addictions were spinning in desperation and it was taking everything he had to keep from flying apart. The hunger to hurt and be hurt had never been more volatile and each second he didn’t connect with Mercy, it grew worse. But how exactly was a monster cyclone supposed to connect with an angel and not rip her apart in ways that made him feel vile and dirty? Fuck, he never wanted to feel that with her.”
“He’d have that answer and he’d give it to Mercy. And she’d leave him. She’d leave him like all good things did. Like he fucking deserved because that’s the product, the sum, the quotient, the difference in his life. Good always equaled gone.”
“I mean she doesn’t… understand the things…” No, he knew that wasn’t true. He knew she understood. Too much maybe. “I don’t want her in my shit, Mom.” “Oh honey, that’s too fucking bad,” she said matter-of-factly. “She’s not going anywhere, you can hang that up. And that woman loves you. I see it and I thank God for that! And do you know why?” “No, I don’t know why. It’s a mystery to me why—a fucking… oxymoron.” “Because she sees the good man in you, baby!” she squealed. “There is no good man in me,” he argued, his frustration mounting. “You’re stupid if you think you’ll convince her or me of that.”
“Thank you for loving me, Mercy,” he whispered, kissing all over her face now. “Thank you for coming into my life baby. Coming into that fucking darkness,” he gasped. “And taking my hand and walking me the fuck out,” he cried. “Thank you Mercy. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for loving me.”
“Don’t let him push you around. You got this,” he said. “You get on the bull, and you ride until he sees who the master is. Relentless. Unforgiving. Merciless. You know the drill. The only place the broken past has in our present, is the place we give it. So, don’t give it, and don’t let him give it.”
“Why her, anybody but that motherfucking angel, anybody but his Angel”
“Because once he hit the floor, he knew it was a countdown till darkness. He didn’t want it to come. Not unless it was coming for good. Maybe this time it would. Maybe his Mercy would succeed where so many before had failed. Yes, she could. She could bring the darkness for good, she was his angel.”
“only place the broken past has in our present, is the place we give it.”
“She always had her eyes set on the light. But Sade couldn’t take his off of the darkness, because the second he did, it would devour him, and then her.”
“I am so tired of begging your sorry ass, chasing your sorry ass down, tying your sorry ass up. ~ Mercy”
“I’ll kill him, I’ll kill that motherfucker,”
“didn’t choose that life,” she patted her chest rapidly. “That was me, that was me. God never wanted that, I promise you, baby. God loves you,” she cried, bitterly. “Who do you think helped me escape? It was Kane, and who do you think told him to help me?” She pointed up and nodded, her teary eyes wide and hopeful. “That’s right, the Man upstairs, He told Kane to help me. And he listened." She gasped several times, face crimping in agony again. "But I didn’t. I knew better than that life, I knew it was wrong but I was young and stupid. Don’t you fucking listen to those lies in your head,” she hissed. “All lies. The truth is in here,” she pressed her palm firmly to his chest. "It's all in here.”
“Damn those who crush the innocent. But blessed be the ones who restore that which was stolen.”
“The voices of the tortured innocent sing to me. Vengeance, they cry. Vengeance.”
“Why would God…” his voice trembled out with several gasps, “send me… an angel?” He turned to her, so confused, his bloodshot eyes, pleading for answers. “Do you think…” his voice barely whispered now, “that maybe… He made a mistake?”
“I fucking love it, Angel, I love it, I love you.”
“Sometimes these things are meant to come out. Need to. But only the good Lord can help with the things that bite into the soul.”
“He stood there, enraptured as she went on in non-stop wedding plan chatter. It was like watching his very own Cinderella getting her fairytale dream come true.”
“Oh God Angel," he whispered. "There's only one monster here." ~Sade~”
“You get on the bull, and you ride until he sees who the master is. Relentless. Unforgiving. Merciless." ~Kane~”
“Angel,” he whispered, stroking his finger under her chin. “Tonight I’m going to be the teacher. And you’re going to learn some things.”
“It isn’t about being awkward. It’s about not being ashamed to be awkward. It’s about embracing what makes us different. Perfection and Stereotype are threats to that.”
“But did you know that eyewitness testimony is often totally unreliable? The human memory only records events through the filter of its own frame of reference. We try to fit the information we receive into schemas, units of knowledge that we possess about the world that correspond with frequently encountered situations, individuals, ideas, and situations. In other words, we often see things as we expect to see them, or want to see them, and not always as they are.”
“that goes well, we will follow with discussions of Raving Fans, The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, Gung Ho!; and The Road Less Traveled. All of these books can help us understand”
“words, it gave a rather convincing impression of trying to elude pursuit.” The dry, faintly ironic delivery”
“It's full of these grand structures that are possible only thanks to our greatest virtues – intelligence, planning, cooperation, vision. Things that you almost forget exist when evil, terror, and war ravage your country and become the normal state of affairs,”
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