“I need someone who sees the fire in my eyes and wants to play with it.”

If you are afraid of darkness, you are afraid of your own soul.

I part my lips, but no words come out. I want to cry. Want to beg. Want to scream. But mostly, I want to hold him until I know he’s going to be okay. Then I want him to hold me until I’m okay, too.

Her soul was too deep to explore by those who always swam in the shallow end.

Submissive, sure, but someone who wants it all the same.

I felt it. I heard the snap of my heart tearing in half. It wasn’t a messy, dirty rip like I’d expected, but a smooth, clean line that knew just where to break to hurt me the most.

Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive.

Pushing out a breath, I lean against the wall and slide to the floor. I sit beside her for as long as it takes. Listening until her sobs fade and the shower turns on.

Come to me in pieces and exist inside me whole.

I never knew hell would be so spick-and-span.

Instead of ignorance, I tasted what it might be like to finally be me. I didn’t give a show this time. I had no plan, no calculations. No scolding voice inside my head. For a little while, I was free.

The prince of darkness is a gentleman.

She wore her scars as her best attire. A stunning dress made of hellfire.

Art is a private piece of me.

There’s a reason we only hire blondes.

I suppose it was easier to pretend I didn’t exist than it was to exorcise my demons.

The darkness that surrounds us cannot hurt us. It is the darkness in your own heart you should fear.

The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.

I am Patrick, a sinner, most uncultivated and least of all the faithful and despised in the eyes of many.

Talk is cheap. Learn to listen with your eyes. Actions do speak louder than words. Watch what a person does more than what he says.

You heard me. You ain’t blind.

Just close your eyes and enjoy the rollercoaster that is life.

Muslim women had to go out in purdah, that heavy sheet that covers even the eyes. Hindu women had to go out in the doli, a kind of closed sedan chair like a catafalque. My mother always told me about these things with bitterness and rage.

Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me, Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me, Christ in every eye that sees me, Christ in every ear that hears me.

The eye altering, alters all.