“Like opium, nerve annihilation stretches up my veins to pump incinerating anguish through my body.”

“Music to me is the air I breathe it's the blood that pumps through my veins that keeps me alive”

“Fuck," he murmured against my lips. The feel, the word, sent a hot little shock through my spine. It skittered through my veins, danced through every nerve.”

“I take in great lungfuls of air. Atom by atom, the oxygen enters my blood and pumps in waves through my veins; it is tidal, this pumping blood. My heart beats mightily. If I ran any faster, gravity would loose its claims on my ankles, and my feet would pedal into the air.”

“I ran. I ran until my muscles burned and my veins pumped battery acid. Then I ran some more. ”

“Loneliness is a drug, a narcotic; it grows through veins, through nerves and muscles; it assumes some right of possession over your body and mind; it feeds itself, and creates its own requirement. Loneliness and solitude are walls.”