Behind every great hatred is a love story. For I am a man who has known and tasted love. I say __ man_ because that is how I know myself. Look at me, and what do you see? Do I not take the form of a man? Do I not feel as you do, suffer as you do, love as you do, mourn as you do? What is the essence of a man, if not these things?

The hands of fate keep time on a heart-shaped clock.

When a writer falls in love with you - their very soul bursts open like a supernova brightly lighting up everything in its way.They will write spells on your skin and carve your name onto their bones and make you theirs.Their love bleeds through their fingers in the form of words hastily written on paper while their heart jumps inside their chest, unable to contain such impossible amount of feelings rushing over one another getting tangled, causing pain and joy and tears of sorrow and happiness all at the same time.The universe will fall from their parted lips when they say your name and whisper how much they love you. They will turn you into a priceless sculpture - carve you into a monument and make love to you - while making you their home, their sun, their moon, their stars, their whole world gathered into one small corporeal being made out of stars and love and infinity.When a writer falls in love with you they become a new separate universe quietly created by your words, brought to life by your touch, burning brightly as long as you whisper their name with all the love that you have inside you.

Friendship marks a life even more deeply than love. Love risks degenerating into obsession, friendship is never anything but sharing.

The restraints were nothing, like paper. The rivets popped from the table and shot across the room. First his arms and then his legs. The room was dark but hid nothing from his eyes, because the darkness was part of him now. And inside him, far down, a great devouring hunger uncoiled itself. To eat the very world. To take it all inside him and be filled by it, made whole. To make the world eternal, as he was.

The real world is in a much darker and deeper place than this, and most of it is occupied by jellyfish and things. We just happen to to forget all that. Don't you agree? Two-thirds of earth's surface is ocean, and all we can see with the naked eye is the surface: the skin.