“A thousand tiny imperfections can make a perfect life.”
“You may not realize it but you're seeking the silence in your soul, a plea where you go to find the best of yourself. Learning a simple and beautiful skill, like choosing a teapot, that's seeking that silence, creating rituals where that silence may be found and nurtured. As long as you have that place, you'll never lose yourself, who you are, what you want. But you have to remember to keep bringing flowers into your meadow, always one at a time, to appreciate each blossom, to honor its contribution to your character. It helps make you into the person you were meant to be.”
“I'm not afraid of you. I'm not afraid of anything."
"Yes, you are, on both counts. You're afraid of everything. In England there are castles with stone walls that go up over a hundred feet, built during a time when it was the strength of your fortress that won battles. Each time I look at you, I marvel at the feat of organic engineering that's allowed you to create such a fortification within a perfect composition of female flesh.”
“I'll say this one more time. I will be gentle. I will be slow. But you don't have the reins.”
“Because." He leaned forward, his hand slipping up her back to unerringly trace the scar tissue of the design burned there, now concealed under the robe. "Someone drew you wings a long time ago and you've been trying to decide whether to fly away ever since." <…> "And because when I look at you, I think you're a gift from God.”
“The strongest drive inside of a submissive, underneath all their emotional wounds, is for the Master to push aside any curtains or walls they may have erected to separate them from their true self, the naked, vulnerable soul. Because that soul wants only one thing. Do you want to know what that is?"
<…> "I don't want to know. That's not what the training's about."
"Wrong. That's what submissive training is all about. Getting past those shields so she feels truly bound to her Master, a part of him as he's a part of her. The ultimate connection, where thought isn't necessary. They're together in the most elemental and perfect way there is. She stared at him. "Let me go, Tyler. I can't do this." "You can. You will.”
“She inhaled sharply as he traced the line of her neck with the warm wetness. "I'm not afraid to bleed for you, Marguerite." His voice was a rough whisper against her ear. "I'll tell The Zone you're thinking it over. Don't disappoint me. Or yourself.”
“I can't tell you that. But not because I'm not willing to tell you." He looked down at the guns. A Desert Eagle and a Sig Sauer nine millimeter, and he'd killed with both of them. "When you take a man's life that's between you, God and that man's soul. It's a personal conversation you work out your entire life. I can't talk about it because there are no words for it.”
“See? Small steps. Just take it one thing at a time and you'll be fine. Angel, I'm not going to hurt you. You know that, right? Can you nod for me? Breathe a little?" Tender humor mixed with the concern in his face could undo her. And give her reassurance. She was rather amazed at the combination.”
“What type of flavor do you think I prefer?"
She cocked her head. "The subtle, the delicately made. You're the type of person who wants the mystery inside the flower bud."
I can still appreciate the different nuances of the stronger flavors." He studied the orchid in the center of the table. "With the very delicate, you sculpt something down to such a whisper of form, there's nothing else it can be. It's in strength you find surprises, variation.”
“How far will you run, before you realize you're not running away from me? You're running to me.”
“Everything goes in slow motion around you, Marguerite. You steal time when people look at you.”
“She was a Mistress who needed a Master. Who needed him.”
“Just stop asking,” she burst out. “Just take. Please…just take over. I can’t…give. You just have to take what you want.” Tyler stared down at”
“When he was with a woman, he saw to her welfare with the easy authority of a man who believed it was his responsibility to look after her.”
“Tyler commanded attention because he was like a tiger. Mesmerizing and possessing something that suggested it was wise not to turn your back on him, any more than it would be a wise move to run.”
“She didn’t belong to anyone, though her lovers, temporary though they were, belonged to her for all time.”
“Most of the Masters at The Zone would have given both of their testicles for the right to top the Ice Queen.”
“Each time I look at you, I marvel at the feat of organic engineering that’s allowed you to create such a fortification within a perfect composition of female flesh.”
“Someone drew you wings a long time ago and you’ve been trying to decide whether to fly away ever since.”
“When you take a man’s life that’s between you, God and that man’s soul. It’s a personal conversation you work out your entire life. I can’t talk about it because there are no words for it.”
“He’d proven himself her Master even when bound, taking over her senses even without the privilege of touching her.”
“Every time you look up at the stars, it’s like opening a door. You could be anyone, anywhere. You could be yourself at any moment in your life. You open that door and you realize you’re the same person under the same stars. Camping out in the backyard with your best friend, eleven years old. Sixteen, driving alone, stopping at the edge of the city, looking up at the same stars. Walking a wooded path, kissing in the moonlight, look up and you’re eleven again. Chasing cats in a tiny town, you’re eleven again, you’re sixteen again. You’re in a rowboat. You’re staring out the back of a car. Out here where the world begins and ends, it’s like nothing ever stops happening.”
“And Sophie and Agatha lived happily ever after, for girls don't need princes for love to call... No, they don't need princes in their fairy tales at all”
“And from the inside, surrounded by the joy and devotion and loyalty of my friends, the shimmer of rage on the outside of our lives looks paper-thin.”
“Cautiously his foot explored, wiggled as it could, and finally felt warm flesh under the pants leg.”
“Despite all their fears, we ask very little of the ones who never loved us. We do not ask for sympathy or pain or compassion. We simply want to know why.”
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