Did television execs have souls? Now, that was an existential question and a half.

Are you wet for me, Mary? I think you are. I think you're covered with honey.

Besides, the mhis that surrounded the compound could scramble anything from GPS to Santa Claus.

The collision was impending and electric, but the moment was soft and sweet: She positively glowed as she looked up at him. "What," she whispered, palming his face. Vin took a moment to memorize her features and the way she felt beneath him, seeing her not just through his eyes, but feeling her with his skin and his heart. "Hello, lovely lady...hello.

Neither said anything while they embraced. Sometimes words didn't go far enough, the vessels of letters and the ladles of grammar incapable of holding the heart's sentiments.

What you just had is nothing compared to what I want to do to you. I want my head between your legs so I can lick you until you scream my name. Then I want to mount you like an animal and look into your eyes as I come inside you. And after that? I want to take you every way there is. I want to do you from behind. I want to screw you standing up, against the wall. I want you to sit on my hips and ride me until I can't breath. - Rhage to Mary

Life is such a glorious trauma, is it not?