“Mercy is for the weak… let me show you how much of an Unseelie I still am.”

“Let me not be weak and tell others how bleeding I am internally; how day by day it drips, and gathers, and congeals.”

“Let me show you, Robbie,” he murmured, his kisses raining down between her breasts. He got on his knees and looked up at her. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

“‎And yet I have had the weakness, and have still the weakness, to wish you to know with what a sudden mastery you kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire.”

“No matter how you stack me. No matter how you arrange me. No matter how you look at me. I am still here and i am still the same person made of the same things. I regret nothing.”

“You don’t care where I live or how I feel, or what I eat or how I feed my kids or how I pay the doctor if I get sick, and yes I am stupid and bored and weak, but I am still your responsibility.”