I'm glad you like him," he murmured, his hands tugging up her shirt. "Because the two of us are yours. For as long as you'll have us." "That would be eternally," she said as she let herself go. And reveled in all the love.

To his mind, free will was a privilege, not a right.

When she didn't say anything more, he frowned, thinking this was the pair of them in a nutshell: Standing three feet away from each other and being separated by miles.

Her bra was cotton and white and, bless its little frickin´ heart, had a front clasp.

Sometimes in life, from out of a myriad of prosaic decisions like what to eat and where to sleep and how to dress, a true crossroads is revealed. In these moments, when the fog of relative irrelevancy lifts and fate rolls out a demand for free will, there is only left or right – no option of four-by-fouring into the underbrush between two paths, no negotiating with the choice that has been presented. You must answer the call and pick your way. And there is no reverse.

Besides, you think I'm not used to hurting? For me, it's home sweet home, my brother.

An Active mind didn't need distraction in its physical environment. It needed a collection of outstanding books and a good lamp. Maybe some cheese and crackers.