“Not all the water in the rough rude seaCan wash the balm from an anointed King;”

“Simon, you gave me no water to wash my feet, but this woman as washed them with her tears. You gave me no kiss, but she has not ceased to kiss my feet. Do no reproach her Simon for you did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed me for my burial.”

“Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.Mercutio: If love be rough with you, be rough with love;Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.”

“Maybe still waters did run deep. Or God on your side was the ultimate soul balm.”

“In bad times, a king or a queen can be a rock for the waters to crash against, so those less strong are not washed away. I will be such a rock. Only give me a chance, sweet Zoria, and I will be a rock for my people.”

“Unapologetically smitten with thunderstorms...the thought of rough sex beneath an acid washed moon and hydrated stars...”