It's fine, but don't ask me to strip again or I'm going to wonder what your intentions really are.

I’m the guy who knows how you can hurt so much that your insides feel like they’re cut and bleeding.

I love you, Skye. You’re in my heart, in my head, under my skin. You’re my present and my future.

Maybe Duke was just the kind of person you don’t keep in your life, but the kind of person that changes your life forever.

With you and me, I don't know what anything means. We're pushing each other away and yet I don't seem to be able to let you go.

I want him and even if it's frightening, even if I may not be completely ready for a relationship, I want him. Now... And tomorrow, and all the following days.

His grip on my shoulder tightens. His other hand behind my head caresses me softly and I sigh."Touch me, Skye."His voice is rough, almost sounding like a groan.

Maybe I shouldn't trust him after all, just like he doesn't seem to trust me fully. Shit, is it always so hard to get close to someone?

If you were ready to sleep with me we wouldn't be in this bar, but in my room not wasting any more time.

Anyone worth knowing breaks once. Once. No shame, no foul if you survive it. You did.

Ours is a world of nuclear giants and ethical infants. We know more about war that we know about peace, more about killing that we know about living.

Europeans say they are proud of their social fabric, of strong rights for workers and the weak in society.

You know music and sound design can be very powerful with how you use it but also the absence of sound can say a lot as well.

One and one is two, and two and two is four, and five will get you ten if you know how to work it.

Science is a way of talking about the universe in words that bind it to a common reality. Magic is a method of talking to the universe in words that it cannot ignore. The two are rarely compatible.

I don't like the kind of writer who's out to change the world and beat up on people for their own good. Stalin did that and Hitler did that, and to hell with them.

Why make so much of fragmentary blue In here and there a bird, or butterfly, Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye, When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?

Whenever there is a catastrophe, some religious people inevitably ask, 'Why didn't God do something? Where was God when all those people died?'

She is well practiced in the art of losing herself.