“Now you will feel no rain,
For each of you will be shelter to the other.
Now you will feel no cold,
For each of you will be warmth to the other.
Now there is no more loneliness for you.
For each of you will be companion to the other.
Now you are two bodies,
But there is only one life before you.”
“Is it romantic or psychotic when I say I'll never let you leave me?”
“You’re my favorite subject, Love. I’ll start with your eyes. I fell in love with those first. One look was like a punch to the guy. You have these ageless eyes on such a young face. I just knew that you had seen bad things, and from the start, I knew that you could understand pain. Understand feeling hopeless and helpless and alone. I fell in love with your eyes first because I looked into their depths and saw the other half of my soul.”
“The world went from black and white and into color when I laid eyes on you, my love. There'll be no going back.”
“I fell in love with your eyes first because I looked into their depths and saw the other half of my soul.”
“Life is funny like that, making us pay for the same stupid mistakes even after we've learned from them thoroughly.”
“God, did I miss you, Love. Is thirty too young to retire from working? I'd love to just make love to you full-time, instead”
“Love, I want you everywhere I go. I’d put you in my pocket, if I could.”
“Love is like that. It's like a wildfire in my blood.”
“I loved your eyes first,” I told him , repeating his words from a few weeks ago back to him, because it was true, and because we were two halves of a whole—we had been all along, and he’d been so clever to know it right away. I used to think it was insanity, but now I was beginning to think that it was pure brilliance. “I see it, too, James. I see the other half of my soul in you.”
“The director cleared her throat just a few shots in. “Um, so, is there anything you can do about that, Mr Cavendish? This is not an X-rated publication…”
James, shameless bastard that he was, seemed completely unfazed. “You’ll just need to shoot me waist up. You were the one who wanted my girlfriend in the shot, putting her hands on me. What did you think was going to happen?”
“Every inch of you was sent to me from heaven.”
“You read me so well without me ever having to say the words. It astounds me. Perhaps we were made for each other. You're making me a believer, my love.”
“I love you. I know I said I needed time, but that was a big fat lie. I fell in love with you more than a year ago, and those feelings never went away, not for me. I was just trying to protect my heart when I told you that I needed more time to fall for you. I've been here all along.”
“You may have fucked a lot of women, James, but I’m your first lover.”
“You put your soul into those paintings, and nothing in this world is more beautiful to me than that soul of yours.”
“How about we call it lovingly fucking your brains out?”
“Everything feels new, now that I have you. The world’s gone into color now, and I want to see it all again with you.”
“I want so much for this to last – for us to stay together. I’m desperate for it.”
“I've been trying to make my head rule my actions, when my heart has so obviously taken over.”
“That’s the emptiest feeling, to know that you would hurt someone else just to feel something.”
“Everyone should get to experience a love like that. That kind of love that makes us better people.”
“I elbowed James as he shot my army guy in the head yet again.
“This game is so sexist,” I complained. “I can’t believe that there isn’t even an option for me to play as a girl.”
“Do you think that if you were playing as a busty blonde it would distract me?” James asked, amused.
“It couldn’t hurt.”
He tossed his controller on the ground. I gave a little embarrassing shriek as he tossed me over his shoulder. “We’re done, guys. Buttercup wants to distract me. Consider me distracted.”
“I can never go back from this, Bianca. It would break me to let you go. You know that, right?”
“Is that where you draw the line? I'll never understand why some things are more taboo than others."
"And that's what makes you so kinky, the fact that you don't see the difference.”
“You’re insane,” I told him, and stood up to dress.
He hugged me from behind, pressing hard against me, rubbing his smooth chest along my back. He spoke into my ear, “Insane for you, my love.”
“We can do this as many times as you want, Mrs. Cavendish.”
“The only way you could be good in bed for me would (be) if you became a complete person, not just some shell of a man that doesn't have a middle ground between putting women on a pedestal and degrading them with meaningless sex.”
“I'd said it because I couldn't look directly at the sun and not remark that it was blinding and brilliant.”
“I sometimes thought that our fast friendship had been kind of like joining a club, one made up of men that thought that Bianca Karlsson was the most perfect woman on the planet.”
“If anyone is going to see the gospel as true and good, satanic blindness and natural deadness must be overcome by the power of God. This is why the Bible says that even though the gospel foolishness to many, yet 'to those who are called...Christ [is] the power of God and the wisdom of God' (1 Corinthians 1:24). The 'calling' is the merciful act of God to remove natural deadness and satanic blindness, so that we see Christ as true and good. The merciful act is itself a blood-bought gift of Christ. Look to him, and pray that God would enable you to see and embrace the gospel of Christ.”
“The crucial question, therefore, is not how to accomplish the final reconciliation. That messianic problem ought not to be taken out of God's hands. The only thing worse than the failure of some modern grand narratives of emancipation would have been their success! Merely by trying to accomplish the messianic task, the have already done too much of the work of the antichrist. In demasking anti-messianic projects that offer universal salvation, Lyotard helps us ask the right kind of question, which is not how to achieve the final reconciliation, but what resources we need to live in peace in the absence of the final reconciliation.”
“[When men were ill, they] liked the importance, the confidence, the attack of a demi-god, whose voice was already echoing through the house as he mounted the stairs, who had the maids scurrying for water or blankets and the patient's relatives hanging on every word. Behenna was such a man. His very appearance made the heart beat faster even if, as often happened, it later stopped beating altogether. Failure did not depress him. If one of his patients died, it was not the fault of his remedies, it was the fault of the patient.”
“There’s a difference between men who love to eat, and men who hunt for their food.”
“There is a dignity about the social intercourse of old Indians which reminds me of a stroll through a winter forest .” — Frederick Remington”
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