“Is that what you are calling it? A message? It felt more like emotional terrorism to me.-Zephyr”

“No, you were certainly not trying to seduce me, more like trying to wound my ego, break my heart, I dunno. Did you like how you felt when you walked away? Do you prefer that emotion to this?”

“Whatever emotional state you’re in while you’re parenting conveys more to your child than the content of what you're doing with them, no matter how perfect your intervention looks "on paper." In other words, to paraphrase Marshall McLuhan, "your emotional state is the message.”

“God, I love you," I whisper, and come crashing back into my body with a suddenness that makes me gasp. I don't know what's more shocking--that I've called on the god I don't believe in, or that the lie I told felt so much like the truth.”

“But so like Hollywood people, who played at the emotions they truly felt. Or maybe the emotions they truly felt could only be expressed in play?”

“Did she go postal?” Russell grins at him, “You know, for pullin’ her portal on the island and sendin’ her to your safe house before the fight?”“Define postal?” Zephyr counters, his brows pulling together further.“Insanely angry,” Russell says.“Yes,” Zephyr nods his head adamantly, pointing at him. “She has not called me ‘sweetie’ since.”“Oooo,” Russell says, ducking his head and wrinkling his nose. “Doghouse.”