I have sworn upon the altar of God Eternal, hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man.
I own your pleasure," I whispered into his mouth. "I'll take it if you won't give it to me.
Dark and Dangerous. And all mine.
I can't live without my smartphone, but I really geek on coding. It's not so much technology that I like, but puzzle solving.
His smile was like lightning in the darkness, blinding and beautiful and mysterious, and I wanted him so badly it was physically painful.
I kicked off my shoes and pulled his hand away from the wheel so I could straddle his lap and hold him. His grip on me was excruciatingly tight, but I didn't complain. We were on an insanely busy street, with endless cars rumbling past on one side and a crush of pedestrians on the other, but neither of us cared. He was shaking violently, as if he were sobbing uncontrollably, but he made no sound and shed no tears. The sky cried for him, the rain coming down hard and angry, steaming off the ground.
I'm an animal with you," he murmured. "I want to mark you. I want to possess you so completely there's no separation between us.
Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues.
Memory. . . is the diary that we all carry about with us.
If youth is the period of hero-worship, so also is it true that hero-worship, more than anything else, perhaps, gives one the sense of youth. To admire, to expand one's self, to forget the rut, to have a sense of newness and life and hope, is to feel young at any time of life.
I'm a realist and I always have been.