“He is in my soul and i am in his, and we are in bed but we are in a desert, and i do not know where he begins and i end - Mac”

“He lives. I breathe. I want. Him. Always. Fire to my ice. Ice to my fever. -Mac”

“He looked at me and I shivered. I never get enough of him. Never will. He lives. I breathe. I want. Him. Always. Fire to my ice. Ice to my fever. Later we would go to bed, and when he rose over me, dark and vast and eternal, I'd know joy. Who Knew? Much later we might fly a couple of Hunters to the moon.”

“Barrons knows virtually everything about me. I wouldn’t be surprised if somewhere he has a little file that encompasses my entire life to date, with neatly mounted, acerbically captioned photos—see Mac sunbathe, see Mac paint her nails, see Mac almost die.”

“Mac." He said my name and laughed. "What a name for something like you. Mac.”

“You're Mac," he says. "And I'm Jericho. And nothing else matters. Never will. You exsist in a place that is beyond all rules for me. Do you understand that?""I do.”

“I didn’t ask. Some things are better left unsaid.He looked at me and I shivered. I never get enough of him. Never will.He lives.I breathe.I want. Him. Always.Fire to my ice. Ice to my fever.Later we would go to bed, and when he rose over me, dark and vast and eternal, I’d know joy.”