The revolutionary woman knows the world she seeks to overthrow is precisely one in which love between equal human beings is well nigh impossible. We are still part of the ironical working-out of this, our own cruel contradiction. One of the most compelling facts which can unite women and make us act is the overwhelming indignity or bitter hurt of being regarded as simply __he other_, __n object_, __ommodity_, __hing_. We act directly from a consciousness of the impossibility of loving or being loved without distortion. But we must still demand now the preconditions of what is impossible at the moment. It is a most disturbing dialectic, our praxis of pain.

He trailed his eyes down over her beautiful breasts then told her, __ou__e going to keep your mouth shut and I__ going togive you that Orgasm you asked for._ He thought for a moment she was going to tell him to get lost, but instead she leaned her head back against the wall and pushed her hips out toward him.

When a Wanderess has been caged, or perched with her wings clipped, She lives like a Stoic, She lives most heroic, smiling with ruby, moistened lips once her cup of Death is welcome sipped.

Mom used to tell me not to worry when people didn't get me. People throw rocks at things that shine - from the mixed up files of Tilly Adam's journal

He paused leaning over to lay his lips on hers, __t__ time to feel again. Let me save you from yourself. You were drowning when I found you, but I__ not letting you go, not without a fight._ He kissed her sweetly and moved back standing up and over her. Lena looked up at his out stretched hand.__ake my hand Lena._ He offered and she knew he meant it in a way that went far beyond offering to help her stand.

I believe in fate and I believe you were supposed to walk into my life, so Mason could walk into yours.