Nenia Campbell

For what is magic, but passion freed from reason?

be my sonata, my cantata, my lovesing me something sweetbut not too sweet(or i may grow deaf to our harmonyas we decrescendo into silence)

Nobody wants to believe that existence carries on without at least taking a stumble from their departure of this world.

All statistics have outliers.

We feel most alive when we are closest to death.

People only picked the pretty, sweet-smelling flowers. The ones with thorns were left alone.

Maybe that was the root of my dislike for her: she had what I wanted, which earned her my jealousy, and since I was ashamed of myself for wanting it, my scorn, as well.

You want to be free. You also want to be mine. You can't be both.

Mamá had always made it clear she believed girls who got raped deserved it. I hadn't done any of the things she said __ad_ girls did, though. I didn't parade myself around in sluttish clothes and make untoward advances. But Mamá had been wrong about everything else so far, so maybe she'd been wrong about that, too. Maybe it didn't matter whether you were bad or good, prudish or wanton: maybe just being female was enough, for some men. Maybe, like so much else, it was only about control. But then why do I feel so guilty?

Only the cruelest hunters set their traps with terror and trepidation.

We always vilify what we don't understand.

When they figure out how to bottle up orgasms and sell them as a food additive, I'll be first in line.

Why did this keep happening? Why her? Perhaps there was some pheromone certain people omitted, perceivable only on a wavelength unique to those individuals who preyed on them.

Humanity is a cage, and our puritanical sensibilities comprise the bars. We are confined by our own reason and intellect, and yet most of us don't even know it.

If you don't feel the same way about him, if you're just leading him on, you need to tell him that. I've seen too many nice guys get shafted because a girl can't get over some jerk.

He was everything your mother warned you about when she told you not to walk alone in the dark.

There is no redemption in a cruel man's love.

That's life. Life is the ultimate game, and its rules were made to be broken