No person, no matter how important society deems their relationship to you, has the right to denounce you for who you are.

The abnegation of empathy in the case of something as complex and variable as sexual taste is a dangerous thing. The particular misfortune of the paedophile is not that he is a walking manifestation of evil but that his or her sexual development (as much subject to nature, nurture and questions of identity as any of ours) has resulted in a potentially very harmful and unacceptable attraction. We rightly call it a disorder because of these damaging effects, but merely reacting with horror will do little towards solving a complex and difficult issue stemming from a sexual drive as real and compulsive as any of us are used to.

You know that saying about how you don’t know what you have until it’s gone? I already did know what I had, and now that she’s gone, I know even more.

Spent my whole life,” Morganith went on, staring miserably into her drink, “thinkin’ that out there somewhere was ah woman who would love me incredibly and I would love her incredibly. Like ah fire consumin’ the very air. Then I meet her, and she leaves me.” Morganith snapped her fingers lazily. “Just like that.

So I never told you about my sexual orientation - it means we were never close friends. My body my business.

Why did you come out when you knew how your family would react?” I murmured, wrapping my arms around his waist. I brushed my lips the length of Lock’s neck.“Because I didn’t want to hide. I hated acting like I was someone I wasn’t.”“I never did thank you for that sub.”Lock laughed. “Adan, you’ve thanked me a hundred times over.”“I don’t recall.”“Every time we’re together, or when you kiss me, it’s a constant reminder of how we met, and I wouldn’t exchange that for anything.

People aren't always who they seem, Detective. Am I anything like you thought?""No," I admitted. You're a million times better than I could have imagined.