“But the men tonight were paid to kill a newlywed man and his wife,” his arms gave me a squeeze, “I lose no sleep for them and you shouldn’t either.” “But you were awake,” I pointed out. “Yes, I was, because my wee wife trembles against me in her sleep,” he informed me. God, that was sweet. “Sorry, Frey,” I whispered. “Do not be sorry, be drowsy,” he ordered.”

“Kid, show me a man who doesn't go down on his wife and I'll show you a man whose wife I can sleep with, tonight.”

“Sweet dreams, baby,” he whispered into myhair, his arm giving me a squeeze. “See you onthe other side.”“You too, Captain,” I whispered...'Lauren and Tate, in Sweet Dreams”

“Once my imagination persuaded me that the dying man gave me a reproachful look out of his shadowy eyes, and it seemed to me that I could rather he had stabbed me than done that. He muttered and mumbled like a dreamer in his sleep, about his wife and his child; and I thought about a new despair, "This thing that I have done does not end with him; it falls upon them too and they never did me any harm... The man was not in uniform, and was not armed. He was a stranger in the country; that was all we ever found out about him. The thought of him got to preying upon me every night; I could not get rid of it. I could not drive it away, the taking of that unoffending life seemed such a wanton thing. And it seemed an epitome of war; that all war must be just that -- the killing of strangers against whom you feel no personal animosity; strangers whom, in other circumstances, you would help if you found them in trouble, and who would help you if you needed it. My campaign was spoiled. It seemed to me I was not rightly equipped for this awful business; that war was intended for men, and I for a child's nurse.”

“Were it up to me, I would be with Lilly. Were it up to me I would be asleep in her arms. She's dead, in a cooler in some fucking morgue, and i'll never sleep in her arms again. The thought of it makes me sick, and it makes me want to join her. The rose will help me. It is time to start the killing. Time to fucking start." (James Frey, pg.39)”

“She gave his hand a small squeeze. "Jason, if we're going to try this then I'd like totake things slow." He frowned. "What I mean is nothing beyond the level we were atlast night." She worried her lip between her teeth. "What I mean is no actual sex."He narrowed his eyes on her. "But, you'll still sleep with me naked and let me do ahundred other naughty things to you?" he asked in a serious tone."Yes."He brushed his lips against hers again and moved back a few inches to look into hereyes. "And you'll still cook for me and call me Master?"Her lips twitched. "Yes to the cooking and not a chance in hell for the other."He sighed wearily. "Fine, how about Lord and Master?""Uh...no.""God?""Nope.""My liege?""Wait.....no."He gave her one of his lopsided smiles. "I'll wear you down eventually.”