“All men are rabbits,” she retorts, her eyes flying open. “They sniff around, fuck whatever’s available, and then they run off. Fucking rabbits. And we’re Elmer Fudd, inadvertently blowing up our own lives while obsessively trying to hunt one down.”
“You want me to touch you right here, in full daylight”
“I need you,” he says, his voice so quiet I have to lean forward to hear. “That’s my secret. I need you more than you have ever needed me.”
“No, I’m telling you that you’re the only thing on this earth that has made me feel connected to what’s here. When I’m with you, I know what’s real. I can feel it, touch it. When I’m with you, I’m something more than . . . other. When I’m not with you, my head’s in the stars.”
“Nothing will happen that you don’t want to happen. Remember, all you have to do is say no.”
“We broke up because I was afraid.”
“I had no desire to say no.”
“You would never come here just because you want me to touch you again, although you do. You wouldn’t come just because you feel alive when you’re with me. You wouldn’t come because I’m the only one you can be your true self with. But for work? Yes, for work you’ll always come.”
“But the thing is,” and with this it’s he who takes a step forward, “the woman who you really are . . . the one who you keep so tightly under wraps, the woman who is only allowed out when she is touched a certain way, made to feel certain things . . . that woman is so damn compelling . . . I can’t seem to turn away.”
“I want to know what she’s like over a candlelight dinner. I want to see her on the beach. I want to know what it would feel like to walk beside her talking about the thoughts you never let her share.”
“I don’t want to confine you, I don’t want to control you. I want to set you free.”
“As I was saying before,” he says, his eyes glued to me as I begin to writhe on the sheets beneath me, “I will allow it.”
“You’re still my ocean,” he whispers.”
“I understand—” I gasp. “. . . and you will not stand in my way.” “I will not stand in your way,” I parrot. It’s all I can manage.”
“and I remember . . . the kisses, the taste of him, the feeling of him inside me.”
“I feel the weight of his chest on top of me as he finally collapses; I close my eyes and try to bring myself back to earth. I might have been safer at Dave”
“I don’t want to respond to him but my body won’t cooperate.”
“If we’re starting over,” he says, quietly, “is it too early to say I love you?”
“He’s no longer a stranger. He’s my moon.”
“But when Robert touches me in just the right way, I forget. I forget what it is I want, or rather I forget that I want anything other than him.”
“Your problem is that you have never fully understood the power of being a desired woman.”
“As we stay there, pressed against each other, the room smelling of coffee and sex, I hear him mutter . . . perhaps to himself, perhaps to me, “Last time, my ass.”
“Two weeks ago I didn’t know what it felt like . . . to be pressed against a wall, to be propped up on a desk, to be made love to on the floor of the Venetian.”
“What’s a woman supposed to do when her angel starts using her devil’s tools?”
“Even with him in me I ache for him, and it’s that aching that brings me rapidly to the brink.”
“The rules are mine to set. What I don’t believe in is playing by other people’s rules.”
“How can I fight so hard for freedom only to be enticed by captivity?”
“You were made for me,” he breathes.”
“And this was the surprising thing about life on Berk. It was a bit like the sea itself. One minute it was all storms, and shipwrecks, and desperate escapes from deadly dragons, the next is was calm, and peacefully restful, as if these things had never happened.”
“To me, these days will never end. I am always there, in that room with her,
or if not I, the imprint of myself - my fossil-love”
“The time of the autumn floods came and the hundred streams poured into the Yellow River. … Then the Lord of the River was beside himself with Joy, believing that all the beauty in the world belonged to him alone.”
“Unlike the God whose name begins with a capital letter, our gods are not all-powerful, Louis. Can you imagine that? Any one of them can be vanquished by a flamethrower or a bulldozer or a bomb—silenced, driven away, enfeebled. Sit in the middle of a shopping mall at midnight, surrounded by half a mile of concrete in all directions, and there the god that was once as strong as a buffalo or a rhinoceros is as feeble as a moth sprayed with pyrethrin. Feeble—but not dead, not wholly extinguished. Tear down the mall and rip up the concrete, and within days that place will be pulsing with life again. Nothing needs to be done, beyond carting away the poisons. The god knows how to take care of that place. It will never be what it was before—but nothing is ever what it was before. It doesn’t need to be what it was before. You’ll hear people talk about turning the plains of North America back into what they were before the Takers arrived. This is nonsense. What the plains were five hundred years ago was not their final form, was not the final, sacrosanct form ordained for them from the beginning of time. There is no such form and never will be any such form. Everything here is on the way. Everything here is in process.”
“Пази я вместо мен Конлан - Аларик”
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