“He held her face in his hands and his gaze warmed her sadness. “I don’t care how you got here. I’m just happy you were born.” He rubbed noses with hers. “Real happy.”
“There was no way to lead up to this gently. With a surge of assertiveness driven by desire as well as a couple of cosmopolitans, she took both his hands in hers and mustered up her confidence. “I want you to lick me cross-eyed.”
“You want me to what?”
“Okay, that sounded better inside my head.” She squeezed his hands. “I want sex. Great sex. Alex, let’s do it.”
“Embracing and being thankful for the family and friends I do have instead of yearning for the family I cannot know or have has helped erase the hollowness I felt when I first found out. When I consider my good health, sense of humor, adventurous side, creative gifts and even my quirky phobias, I am grateful that the two people responsible for creating me existed.” (Maddie Saunders, the heroine)”
“I’m sorry. I forgot this is Maddie’s world of sex and the rest of us star in it.”
She punctuated each word, poking her finger in his chest. “And you should be grateful.”
“Life’s a beach and then you have sex on it.” Maddie Saunders' philosophy”
“The United States is following at some distance down this same road, with Canada somewhere in between. If the situation is not to degenerate further, it is imperative that we shape the intellectual climate of our nation in such a way that Christianity remains a live option for thinking men and women.”
“«Un gran escritor no es más que un escritor. La diferencia es de matiz, no de raíz. Todos los saltadores de altura saltan, digamos, dos metros. Si uno salta dos metros y cinco centímetros, ya es un gran deportista. No, no merece la pena fatigarse siquiera con la idea de llegar a ser un pobre gran escritor, un desdichado escritor genial. Coge los mejores libros escritos jamás. Apenas son algo mejores que los libros mediocres. Todos son fundamentalmente libros nada más. Te proporcionarán, cuando los leas, un placer estético algo más intenso. Como un café un poco más dulce. Los soltarás al cabo de treinta páginas para prepararte un bocadillo o para ir al baño. Los leerás a la vez que quién sabe qué novela policiaca. Dentro de unos miles de años también ellos serán tierra y polvo. En estas condiciones, que tú, un ser al que se le ha concedido la oportunidad disparatada de existir y de reflexionar sobre el mundo, te propongas llegar a ser tan solo un genio es humillante, es ínfimo. Es como si abandonaras todo y te internaras de nuevo en el bosque. En cada individuo hay posibilidades ante las cuales la ambición de ser el escritor más importante de todos los tiempos es simplemente denigrante por su simplicidad. Porque ¿qué milagro es importante comparado con el de existir y de saber que existes? De aquí hasta ser el hombre más rico, el más poderoso, el más ingenioso del mundo es como pasar de un billón a un billón uno, incluso menos. No, no quiero llegar a ser un gran escritor, quiero llegar a ser Todo. Sueño sin cesar con un creador que, a través de su arte, llegue a influir de verdad en la vida de las personas, de todas las personas, y después en la vida de las personas, de todas la personas, y después en la vida del universo, hasta las estrellas más lejanas, hasta el final del espacio y del tiempo. Y que a continuación sustituya al universo, que se convierta él mismo en el Mundo. Sólo así creo que podría un hombre, un artista, cumplir su misión. El resto es literatura, una colección de trucos mejor o peor dominados, trozos de papel emborronados con brea por los que nadie da un real, por muy geniales que sean esas líneas de signos que, dentro de poco ni siquiera serán comprendidas».”
“She shuddered, convulsing beneath the whiplash of his tongue as the world dissolved around her.
“Now.” He moved before the last violent pulses stilled.
He came over her body, catching his weight on his elbows, staring down at her with savage intensity as the bulbous head of his c#ck nudged against the sensitive opening of her pussy.
“Now,” he whispered again. “I make you my woman, Elizabeth. Now.”
“In his suicide note, Kurt Cobain wrote, "It's better to burn out than to fade away." He was quoting a Neil Young song about Johnny Rotten of the Sex Pistols. When I was twenty-four, I interviewed John Lennon. I asked him about this sentiment, one that pervades rock and roll. He took strong, outraged exception to it. "It's better to fade away like an old soldier than to burn out, " he said. "I worship people who survive. I'll take the living and the healthy.”
“It took all of her moral strength not to kick him—just a little—while he was so conveniently at her feet.”
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