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Ho skapte faktisk ein kanon for hva som var vakkert (..) Tre ting kvite: hud, tenner, hender Tre ting svarte: auge, augebryn, augelokk Tre ting raude: lepper kinn, negler Tre ting lange: kropp, hår, hender Tre ting korte: tenner, øyre, føter, Tre ting smale: munn, liv, okler Tre ting tjukke: armar, lår, legger Tre ting små: brystvorte, nase, hovud

Tømme, tømme fornedrelsens beger til bunns! For nå er det sikkert at hun ikke kommer. Det får så være. Nå måtte han tømme alt det bitre, for på bunnen ligger vissheten, beruse seg med smerte, samle lag på lag av lidelse og skam inntil han vrir seg som en orm og blir nesten bedøvet av sine kvaler. Han hadde jaget etter lykken, nå måtte han hengi seg til smerten, fordi den er som narkose for de lidende. Det er natt, det er alt natt og hun kommer ikke.

Someone already fills your heart. And the gap between our stations is too great for any love to bridge.

What I sensed from here was not despair, but containment: a fierce resolve that we would not lose what we had now to what we could not have tomorrow.

The simple act of offering up her mouth to mine, was like the opening of a floodgate. What followed was a seamless continuation of her kiss. We did not pause to consider wisdom or morality, we did not hesitate at all. The permission we gave each other was absolute. We ventured together into that newness, and I cannot imagine a deeper joining than our shared amazement brought us. We both came whole that night, unfettered by expectations or memories of others. I had no more right to her than she had to me. But I gave and I took and I swear I shall never regret it.

Og det tyktes henne, hun stod i en hule av natt og det var dødens forborg.

Years were passing through the spaces between moments.

Dear Anna, We will live in a home with no walls, so that everywhere we go will be our home.

The spaces between our words grew.

Noe som minner om den tiende eller tyvende soldat i voldtektskøen, der han kaster pikens sorte sjal over det hvite ansiktet hennes for ikke å se de håpløse øynene mens han tar ut sine millitære gledesrasjoner i den triste, plyndrede landsbyen.

Vel. Hvis han var taus, kunne jeg også være taus. Jeg kunne så menn trenge litt hvile i den understrykte dødsredde gyngestolen, før jeg kjørte dit hvor udyrets hule var - og der trakk forhuden vekk fra pistolmunningen og nøt den utløste avtrekkers orgasme.

All looks with strangers became the unspoken question, "are you the stranger who will rescue me?" Starved for affection, terrified of abandonment, I began to wonder if sex was really just an excuse to look deeply into another human being's eyes.

Maybe we were all promised heaven in our lifetimes, and what we ended up with can't help but suffer in comparison.

His silence having grown too pronounced to be ignored.

But I admired Carline Crale because she didn't fight, because she retreated into her world of half-lights and shadows. She was never defeated because she never gave battle.

My attention was caught at once by the girl's extraordinary Scandinavian fairness. She had the almost colourless ash hair -light grey eyes -and transparent glowing pallor that one finds amongst Norwegians and Swedes. She looked about twenty-seven and seemed to be as efficient as she was decorative.