Kitty Thomas Quotes

When you're a part of society there are certain behaviors that aren't okay. If you do these behaviors and then feel nothing, that's worse. But I've been trying to determine when I've ever been a part of society.

No . . . please don't leave me. I'll be your whore. I'll be whatever you want, please." I

I want to drink you until there's nothing left. I want you to magically rematerialize so I can do it again. I want a phoenix that will rise from the ashes just so I can keep burning her. I thought I knew madness, but I didn't know it before you.

It's a cruel joke of the universe that the one person who makes me come alive is himself dead. And evil. His very existence defies all moral laws and all known laws of physics.

He is the cornerstone of a defining life moment for me.

Can I take a few things?
Mementos. How fucked up was that? I wanted reminders of my imprisonment.

The way you respond to me. You're poetry in motion.

The technology distracted us from our lack of answers to anything that mattered. It gave us a lesser form of magic to wield to appease us.

When you really thought about it crying was a rather bizarre thing for any creature to be capable of. What purpose did it serve other than revealing too much?

There has to be some way this won't end in tragedy. Why can't Romeo and Juliet live happily ever after? It's as if the universe won't abide such a strong connection in such a disconnected world, as if our connection defies the natural order.

Love burns past logic and all rational time lines to consume everything.

All I feel is sympathy for the devil who has crawled inside my heart, stealing my soul and my will from me.

He'd gone from being just my tormentor to being my tormentor and protector, though I needed protection from nothing but him.

He always gave me choices. Or maybe what he gave me was force wrapped in the pretty package of pretend free will.

Fiction had sold me pretty lies, and none of them did me any good now.

You see, I've never been free. Not one day of my life. I've always given in to the wants and needs of those around me. My confidence has always been a social mask and my success as a motivational speaker was because my mask was just so damn convincing. At times, even to me.

I wonder if he'd die if I did because I know the opposite is true.

The wind didn't know this was hell.

But I've never followed my own will. What I wanted. It was always what you guys wanted. Or what society wanted. Or I almost took my pills like a good little girl, had my cathartic trauma moment, and put the pieces of my world back together so everyone could say how brave and good I was. Almost. But I couldn't. As I write this letter I can't decide whether I'm acting from strength or weakness, but I know that I'm acting for the first time of my own will. Yes, I know that's hard to accept.

The whole concept of sexual attraction had become a clinical observation of how other people were.

There is that moment when you first wake up and your dreams are still hovering like a fine mist in the air. For a tiny fragment of time you feel as though you could choose to live in either reality. In fact, in those seconds, as the dream replays in your mind, still so fresh, it seems more real, and this world seems unreal and fuzzy. I want to make the choice to go back to the dream, to live there.

It was as if her body had lain dormant, waiting for the right man to come along and awaken her to her erotic potential.

I know I need him. And I hope he needs me. What we have is fucked up and twisted, but it serves a need. I know I've always been wired differently. He only brought to the surface what was already there.

He made you believe you'd have lovely things and live kinkily ever after, didn't he?

I can't kill him and he can't keep me alive. The world we've lived in together is an illusion that can't be maintained. The edges are fraying, curling away to reveal the harsh reality beneath. The lion and the lamb do not lie down together. It just can't be.

Before, time held no meaning with him. Now it's everything. Every second of my existence feels like it will be the last.

Blackmail.
It was the socially-approved equivalent of blow me, and I'll get you some of the good stuff.

I'd convinced myself it would have been different if he'd been as ugly on the outside as he was on the inside, but he wasn't. He was cruel beauty, a sculpture, a god, and I couldn't tear my eyes from him. I'd seen his expression soften in the dungeon with the whip. I'd do anything to have him look at me like that again, no matter how insane he was.

You may get me to say the word, but know this, you will never truly own me. That right belongs to my real master. You may take his symbol off my hip, but there will always be a scar that reminds us both what was there. And you might take his collar off my throat, but you'll never erase his name from my soul.

If you haven't developed morals by the time you start reading erotica, it's probably too late.

Somewhere deep in my mind, I knew he could be my new ocean.

People always think that they'll never break. They'll never give in, CIA operatives somehow crack, but not them

Where he'd wanted her to remain very still, she saw he'd spelled out a word with wax. Mine. She

When you became everything and everything became you, what was there to dispute? Everything just was.

The only thing you're safe from is everyone and everything else. I can protect you from literally anything but myself.
Pray that i don't love you, Juliette. I'm scared of what will happen to you if i do - The Last Girl