“Maybe love isn't just a bouquet of roses once in a whole. Maybe it's just sticking it out, when it's hard, when you're mad, when you're tired.”
“I don't want to lose you, I love you, and…and that's all I've got.”
As speeches went, it wasn't great. As feelings went…different story.”
“But if someone calls me ‘poor thing’ one more time, I may go postal and kill everyone around me. Except children and dogs. And old people. And you. And Connor. Fine, I won't kill anyone. But it's driving me crazy.”
“Love came when you weren't looking, except in the case of millions who found mates on Match.com, but, hey. It sounded good.”
“The love of your life won't be the man you end up with, and you'll always compare the two.”
“Nina, I really would like to go spend some time with Faith,” he said bluntly.
“To make me jealous?”
“No. Because she's…”
“Sweet?” Nina said, pulling a face and batting her eyelashes
“Mine.”
“Maybe love isn’t just
a bouquet of roses once in a while. Maybe it’s just sticking it out, when it’s hard, when you’re mad, when
you’re tired.”
“What’s more appealing than a guy who gets down on his knees and lets your dog lick his face?”
“Well, you always remember people who hurt your feelings.”
“Men never had to deal with this, Faith thought. Men didn’t hide in bathrooms and wrestle microfiber and pantyhose. Totally not fair. Men had it easy. Did men get bikini waxed and wear uncomfortable underwear? No, they did not. Faith would bet her life that a man had invented thongs. Men sucked.”
“Maybe love isn't just a bouquest of roses once in a while. Maybe it's just sticking it out, when it's hard, when you're mad, when you're tired.”
“Then she slammed the door. Opened it and slammed it again, just in case he missed the point.”
“Maybe love isn't just a bouquet of roses once in a while. Maybe it's just sticking it out when it's hard, when you're mad, when you're tired.”
“Get out of bed. Go to classes. Try to be normal, and pretty soon all that grief you carry...it gets easier.”
“The whole bringing sexy back...you know that song? By that cute boy?”
“Yeah, I know it,” Faith said grimly.
“Who is he again?”
“Justin Timberlake.”
“Right. “Bring Sexy Back” or something. Well, I didn’t know sexy was gone. Now Carl wants me to be all creative. You know what he brought back from Costco last week? Eight cans of whipped cream, Faith. Eight.”
“That’s a lot,” Faith said. Time to swear off dairy.
“And it’s having the opposite effect. Right? Like, the storm of love I used to have has dried to a mist, because all of a sudden, plain old marital brevity isn’t good enough. Oh, and the other day, Abby walked in on us, and she’s not speaking to me at the moment. Last week, Faith, I had a mammogram, you know?”
Faith looked up sharply. “Is everything okay?”
“Sure! But I was looking forward to it! Like, that was my special alone time, just me and the boob squisher. I didn’t have to talk dirty to Carl or wear Vulcan ears—”
“Oh, boy.”
“You're such a girl," she chided, but somehow the words came out too soft...too tender, and ended up sounding like a compliment.
Jay just laughed. "So what does that make you, the guy?" He squeezed her hand even tighter, keeping it buried in his.
"Or some sort of lesbian," she teased, raising one eyebrow. "Maybe we should try out a little girl-on-girl action."
"Nice, Violet. Do you kiss your mom with that mouth?" His eyes glinted as he watched her.
She leaned closer to him in the darkness of the car's interior. "No, but I'll kiss you with it.”
“By ceasing to rear and kill animals for food, we can make so much extra food available for humans that, properly distributed, it would eliminate starvation and malnutrition from this planet. Animal Liberation is Human Liberation too.”
“I never said I didn't want to marry. It just didn't happen-Iam not the sort of lady a man chooses to marry, for I am too plain and too serious. Now I am reconciled to being on my own.”
“I began to realize how important it was to be an enthusiast in life. He taught me that if you are interested in something, no matter what it is, go at it at full speed ahead. Embrace it with both arms, hug it, love it and above all become passionate about it. Lukewarm is no good. Hot is no good either. White hot and passionate is the only thing to be.”
“Now that it’s too late, now that I lie here dying on this bloodstained sand, I finally get it.
I understand, now.
I understand. I know what he meant. My father told me that to know
the enemy is half the battle. I know you, now. That’s right.
It’s you.
All of you who sit in comfort and watch me die, who see the twitch of
my bowels through my own eyes: You are my enemy.
Corpses lie scattered around me, gleanings left in a wheat field by a careless reaper. Berne’s body cools beneath the bend of my back, and I can’t feel him anymore. The sky darkens over my head—but no, I think that’s my eyes; Pallas’ light seems to have faded.
Every drop of the blood that soaks into this sand stains my hands and the hands of the monsters that put me here.
That’s you, again.
It’s your money that supports me, and everyone like me; it’s your lust that we serve.
You could thumb your emergency cut-off, turn your eyes from the screen, walk out of the theatre, close the book . . .
But you don’t.
You are my accomplice, and my destroyer.
My nemesis.
My insatiable blood-crazed god.
Ah, ahhh, Christ . . . it hurts.”
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