“He demanded I tell him all I knew. I refused. He threatened me. Still, I refused. He became irate. He screamed. He spat. He threw plates. Overturned tables. He punched his minister of culture.”

“He remembered the darkness and despair she'd suffered during her long years as a prisoner, but he also recalled the deep, unquenchable joy she took from the world around her; and he knew that given the choice, Wilamena would suffer all she had and more rather than sacrifice one day of being alive.It was just as his father had said. She chose life, all of it.”

“Our reconnection was intense and deeply emotional, like much of our relationship had been. He muttered things to me while we made love—how beautiful he thought I was, how much he’d missed me, how much he needed me, how empty he’d been, how much he loved me. I couldn’t even speak to tell him I felt the exact same way. I was too overcome by the emotion in his voice. Then he said something that tore me.“Don’t leave…I don’t want to be alone.” He had actual tears in his eyes as he looked down on me. “I don’t want to be alone, anymore.” ~Kellan”

“Between pants, I continued spewing how much I hated him. Around my lips, he kept telling me I didn't.”

“Dylan [Thomas] I knew before and after he became famous. He was splendid, rapacious, demanding as a young man. To much has been written about him for me to add to the legend. As that legend began to grow in his lifetime I learned to separate him from his poetry, to find him in person increasingly tedious and his poems increasingly exciting, both in print and when he was reading them.”

“He was crazy, Michael thought, but he appeared to be nice-crazy, and not I'll-kill-you-I'll-kill-you crazy.”

“Grinning at me, Kellan leaned down to kiss my cheek. “Thanks,” he muttered in my ear as he stole my beer from my fingers.I glared at him as I watched him tip it back. “Just so you know, I totally backwashed.”Kellan paused mid-gulp, then shrugged. Smiling wide once he was finished, he husked, “That’s all right…I like your fluids.”