Why do you tell me you love me only when you're drunk or dreaming? she asked. I have awful timing, said Simon
I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.)
She smirks."Are you attempting to stop me, little one?" "Excuse me? Did you just call me 'little one'? What are you? Like, four feet tall?" I ask.
To have to perform a scene, a punishment scene like that, was extremely unpleasant. It bothered me to hurt you, Jessica,” he growled. “You will let me hold you, and offer me some comfort in return.
You yank my hair back even harder, creating a sudden hurt which nearly topples me over the edge of the precipice. “Look at me whilst you beg me, little one…
It's physics. Pure physics, I'm falling fast and faster still. So fall with me. Fall down with me. And stay.
His eyes twinkled mischievously as he gazed at me with that look that always made me melt: as if I were edible and he could barely restrain himself from taking a bite.
All my best writing was written before 1982, and then a significant event happened to me: I was born.
You don’t know anything about me, Tyler. I would suggest you stop trying to fucking psychoanalyse me. I’ve already told you that I have no love to give. We fuck, that’s about it with you and me.
Loss taught me. It taught me that I won’t have people around me forever. The good I need to do to someone today, I may not have the opportunity to do tomorrow.
There is much you can learn from books and scrolls. These books are my friends, my companions. They make me laugh and cry and find meaning in life.
¿Qué me valen la gracia y la belleza, y amar como jamás amó ninguna, si la pasión que el alma me devora, la desconoce aquel que me enamora?
I'm trying to let him know what I'm about to do. I'm hoping he can save me, even though I realize he can't.
...It sounded like a dragon breathing in time with me, like I had this pet dragon who was cuddled up next to me and cared enough about me to time his breaths to mine.
And then there's the sickness I feel from looking at legs I can't touch, or at lips that don't smile at me. Or hips that don't reach for me. And hearts that don't beat for me.
...but don't tell me I'm not sensitive to beauty. That's my Achilles' heel, and don't you forget it. To me, everything is beautiful. Show me a pink sunset and I'm limp, by God...
Over and over. They be making me remember everythings. Me old songs, they just be natural. But now they be stuffing new things into me and this poor head hurts horrid.
I said he kissed me. Really kissed me. It rocked me to my soul. It was brutal. It was brilliant. It was horrible. I thought I was going to die.
I still believed he'd love me again somehow, love me that intense, thick way he did, the way that made everything good.
I pound on the glass, screaming my head off. Everyone ignores me except for some Capitol attendant who appears behind me and offers me a beverage.
Ultimately, my love saved me, for my love gave me strength. At night, when sleep was sunwilling to rescue me, I gritted my teeth and devoured my fondest memories.
