I don't believe in getting clothes that just look pretty or that'll fall apart—they have to stand up to a lot of abuse.

It was stealing her breath, imbecile. Go get a towel." -Christophe, Strange Angels by Lili St. Crow

You can't ever stop thinking something quick enough. Something that hurts always gets the knife in too fast for you to slam a lid on it and shove it away.

I guess since the groin is the center of a guy's world, he rarely guesses it isn't the center of yours.

His thumb stroked my cheek. My eyes half-closed. When he spoke next, it was very softly, his voice an almost-physical caress against my whole body. My flesh tightened like a harpstring. I swallowed hard against the wave of liquid heat. "How can I possibly be jealous when I know you spent your time grieving for me, Dante?

I should start charging uncomfortable thoughts rent. Except what would they pay me in? Probably something even worse.

Are you listening, little bird?