Being liberated means reading what you want to read, and fantasizing about what you want to fantasize about.

Come on, say it again. I'm a perfect devil. Tell me how bad I am. It makes me feel so good!

I hear the birds singing. Listen. I hear them in their cage. The others-all our kind who know of her-they think of her as heartless, but she wasn't heartless. She was only aware of things which I didn't learn till so many decades had passed. She knew secrets that only suffering can teach.

For several long moments we remained locked together, and I think I covered her hair with small sacred kisses, her perfume crucifying me with memories.

And when a strong man is sweet, even Goddesses look down from Mount Olympus.

….it was a brave man’s fear. I knew what he meant. What must a brave general feel when he knows the battle has gone against him and nothing remains but death?

In the very depths of Hell, do not demons love one another?