“I put my hand out and wiped the vomit from his lips, and cooed soothing words to him. It squeezed my heart to see him suffer like this - but where my genuine concern for him ended and where my self-interest began, I could not tell: no servant can ever tell what the motives of his heart are."Do we loathe our masters behind a facade of love - or do we love them behind a facade of loathing?"We are made mysteries to ourselves by the Rooster Coop we are locked in.”

“Do we loathe our masters behind a facade of love - or do we love them behind a facade of loathing?”

“Jesus, Laurie, baby, look at you." My eyes followed his, mainly because I wanted him to keep at me and I'd do just about anything he told me to do to get it. But what I saw made my heart skip and my legs fail. Tate, dark, tall, behind me, his hands on me; me, blonde, my face flushed, my eyes hooded, tucked tight against him. A perfect fit, made to be there. A perfect match, made to be together. Made to be there. Made to be together. We looked great. We looked hot. We looked beautiful. My eyes went to his in the mirror.”

“I tell him all that I can without telling him the truth. That my heart is broken, that I can't figure out where my father fits in my story anymore, that I am afraid I will never see him again, and that I am so very tired of loving men I cannot trust.”

“I love, I can only love the one I've left behind, stained with my blood when, ungrateful wretch that I am, I extinguished myself and shot myself through the heart. But never, never have I ceased to love that one, and even on the night I parted from him I loved him perhaps more poignantly than ever. We can truly love only with suffering and through suffering! We know not how to love otherwise. We know no other love. I want suffering in order to love. I want and thirst this very minute to kiss , with tears streaming down my cheeks, this one and only I have left behind. I don't want and won't accept any other.”

“I love you.”I stared stupidly at him. Was he joking again, reciting another line from my story? I didn’t remember writing this.He leaned in and kissed me. I didn’t respond for a few seconds. My mind lagged behind what my body was feeling.“Say it,” he whispered against my lips. “I know this is hard for you. Tell me.”“I love you.” Hearing my own words, I gasped at the rush of emotion.He put his hands on either side of my jaw and took my mouth with his.”