Before, time held no meaning with him. Now it’s everything. Every second of my existence feels like it will be the last.

There is that moment when you first wake up and your dreams are still hovering like a fine mist in the air. For a tiny fragment of time you feel as though you could choose to live in either reality. In fact, in those seconds, as the dream replays in your mind, still so fresh, it seems more real, and this world seems unreal and fuzzy. I want to make the choice to go back to the dream, to live there.

It’s a cruel joke of the universe that the one person who makes me come alive is himself dead. And evil. His very existence defies all moral laws and all known laws of physics.

I can’t hate you. We’re too connected. I can’t hate you without hating me.

I felt that if he touched me, I'd die. and then the thought crawled into my brain that if he didn't touch me, I'd die.

When you really thought about it crying was a rather bizarre thing for any creature to be capable of. What purpose did it serve other than revealing too much?

You may get me to say the word, but know this, you will never truly own me. That right belongs to my real master. You may take his symbol off my hip, but there will always be a scar that reminds us both what was there. And you might take his collar off my throat, but you'll never erase his name from my soul.

I thought I knew madness, but I didn’t know it before you.

There has to be some way this won’t end in tragedy. Why can’t Romeo and Juliet live happily ever after? It’s as if the universe won’t abide such a strong connection in such a disconnected world, as if our connection defies the natural order.

He said it with everything he did, every touch, every caress, every physical pleasure he bestowed upon me. Give it all to me. Give me your will.

You can’t fall in love that fast. Not real love. Real love takes time, like a fine wine. Real love takes years. Not days. Not weeks.