Sylvain Reynard Quotes

Anything that exists has some goodness in it because God made it. And no matter how marred or broken or sinful that being is, it still maintains some goodness so long as it exists. Evil can only feed off of goodness like a parasite; if all the goodness of a creature were eliminated, the creature in question would no longer exist.

When a man kneels before a woman, it's a gesture of chivalry. When a woman kneels before a man, it's unseemly.

Think about it. We are fed in the Eucharist, by our mothers when we are infants, by our parents as children, by friends at dinner parties, by a lover when we feast on one another's bodies ... and on occasion, on one another's souls. Don't you want me to feed you? You don't want to feast on my body, but at least feast on my cake.
Gabriel chuckled. When Julia didn't answer, he turned his full attention to his dessert. She scowled. If he thought this disgusting display of food porn was going to get her attention and maybe make her a little hot and bothered until she was putty in his hands ...
... he was right.

I can't understand why everyone just doesn't want kindness. Life is painful enough.

Love isn't secretive or one-sided." "It isn't," he said fiercely. "Then tell me." He kissed her forehead. "Je t'aim.

Kiss someone. Even if it's only in your mind.

And of that second kingdom will I sing Wherein the human spirit doth purge itself, And to ascend to heaven becometh worthy. -Dante Alighieri, Purgatorio, Canto I.004-006.

These hands are yours. You can use them
for good, or for evil. And no amount of nature, biology, or DNA determines those
decisions for you.

I know you loved me. I just don't understand why you didn't love me enough to stay.

When everyone in the whole world believes one thing and you are the only one who believes differently, it's very tempting to assimilate

She glanced over at the twisted wreckage of the chair - (a nice, Swedish chair that had done nothing in its short life to hurt anyone

Hell is knowing your fate and knowing there isn't a damn thing you can do about it.

I've always had a terrible weakness for beautiful but sad things.

She closed her eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. She always found its rhythm comforting.

The Angelfucker strikes again.

You know, the act of feeding someone is the ultimate act of care and affection ... sharing yourself with someone else through food." He held another mouthful of cake under her nose. "Think about it. We are fed in the Eucharist, by our mothers when we are infants, by our parents as children, by friends at dinner parties, by a lover when we feast on one another's bodies ... and on occasion, on another's souls.

You are not a devil, you're an angel. My angel.

You assume that my previous sexual encounters were completely fulfilling, but you're wrong. You gave me what I've never had - love and sex together. You're the only one who has ever been my lover in the true sense.

Life is risk. I could get cancer. Or get hit by a car. You could wrap me in bubble wrap and keep me indoors and I could still get sick. I know that I could lose you too. And as much as I don't want to say it, someday you're going to die."
Her voice broke on the last word. "But I choose to love you now and I choose to build a life with you knowing I could lose you. I'm asking you to make that same choice. I'm asking you to take the risk, with me.

She just wanted to be left alone to lick her wounds, like a puppy that had been kicked repeatedly.

It appears that Venus has Beatrice's face. Once again, I'm not interested in a historical analysis of the models for the painting. I'm simply asking you to note the visible similarities between the figures. They represent two muses, two ideal types, one theological and one secular. Beatrice is the lover of the soul; Venus is the lover of the body. Botticelli's La Bella has both faces - one of sacrificial love or agape, and one of sexual love or eros.

Julia smiled as if he'd given her a present and eagerly sat in it, pulling her legs under herself and curling up like a kitten. Gabriel could swear that he heard her purring. He smiled at the sight of her, momentarily relaxed and almost happy over such a trivial event.

She was silent as she felt the energy between them shift, like a serpent circling back on itself, swallowing itself whole, anger and passion feeding off one another.

He was distracted at that moment by a black lace bra that was reclining provocatively but somewhat casually on top of the dryer. He gazed at it and realized that the number and cup size that popped into his head the night he'd taken her to Harbour Sixty for dinner were absolutely correct. Gabriel silently congratulated himself.

Chivalry in academia is dead.

I think if you car enough about someone to have sex with them, then you should care enough to respect them and not treat them as an object. You should be responsible and careful and never, ever hurt them. Even if they're fucked up enough to beg you to.

and for your words…
If I have a soul, it's yours...

The Kingdom of Heaven is like a family,' thought Julia, as she watched Rachel and Scott hug their father. 'Where love and forgiveness replace tears and suffering

Not even Hell could keep me from you

The cycle of abuse interspersed with occasional bouts of kindness keeps you stuck, waiting and hoping for the kindness to return. And it does, on occasion, only to be swept away.

Look at me and tell me it meant nothing to you, and I will let you go.

I could spend the rest of my life inside you and die happy. You're my home. - Gabriel's Redemption

He wore clothes to cover his nakedness, he drove a car, and he ate with a knife and a fork and a linen napkin. He was gainfully employed in a job that required intellectual ability and acuity. He controlled his sexual urges through various civilized means and would never take a woman against her will. Nevertheless, as he stared at Miss Mitchell and Paul, he realized that he was an animal. Something primitive. Something feral. And something made him want to go over there and rip Paul's hands from his body and carry Miss Mitchell off. To kiss her senseless, move his lips to her neck, and claim her.

Marriage is a sacrament that exists partially to protect women from sexual exploitation. If you take that protection away from her, then she is little more than your mistress, no matter what you choose to call her.

Why do you do that?" he whispered, after a few minutes.
"Do what?"
"Provoke me."
"I don't ... I ... I'm not provoking you. I'm stating a fact."
"Nevertheless, it is extremely provocative. Every time I try to have a conversation with you like a normal person, you provoke me.

You toyed with her heart. I know what that's like. I can have compassion for her because of that."
"I met you first," he whispered.
"That doesn't give you license to be cruel.

Bad things happen to everyone. Not that this was an excuse or a justification for wronging another human being. Still, all humans had this shared experience - that of suffering. No human being left this world without shedding a tear, or feeling pain, or wading into the sea of sorrow.

In other words, Botticelli's ideal women look like women and not boys. They're soft and curvaceous. Healthy and rounded. Women of the size figured in this painting were considered beautiful for centuries, if not millennia. They were the aesthetic ideal during my lifetime and long after."
He brought his mouth to her neck before whispering, "My ideal hasn't changed.

Julia wasn't breathing. How could she when the sensation was so intense? The taste of peppermint, the scent of Aramis, the way his breath consumed her.

You are my greatest virtue and my deepest vice.

She comforted him in his darkness and gave him hope. She seemed to cherish a sincere affection for him, despite his failings. 'She saved me'.

As Julia scanned the crowd, one face stood out. A young-looking, fair-haired man with strange gray eyes stared unblinkingly in her direction, his expression one of intense curiosity.

Your love makes me beautiful."
"Then let me love you forever.

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You, of all people, deserve a happy ending. Despite everything that happened to you, you aren't bitter. You aren't cold. You've just retreated a little and been shy, and that's okay. If I were a fairy godmother, I would give you your heart's desire in an istant. And I would wipe away your tears and tell you not to cry.
-Rachel to Julia

She thinks most people fail to reason at all. The way she describes the world today, most people are monkeys who happen to wear clothes. On occasion.

I would have done whatever it took to save you.' His voice and his expression were grave. 'Even if that meant I had to spend eternity in Hell.

She knew that upon closer inspection Gabriel would make a lousy poker player. He had too many tells, too many ways he revealed his inner turmoil. He shut his eyes when he was close to losing his temper. He rubbed his face when he was frustrated. He paced when he was distressed or afraid. Rachel watched him begin to pace and wondered what he was afraid of.

So drop the Mr. Rochester-Mr. Darcy-Heathcliff British stuck-uppity and treat her like the treasure she is

My Dear Julianne,
If you wish to know how I feel about you, just ask me.
Yours,
Gabriel

Love hath so long possess'd me for his own
And made his lordship so familiar
That he, who at first irk'd me, is now grown
Unto my heart as its best secrets are.
And thus, when he in such sore wise doth mar
My life that all its strength seems gone from it.
Mine inmost being then feels thoroughly quit
Of anguish, and all evil keeps afar.
Love also gathers to such power in me
That my sighs speak, each one a grievous thing.
Always soliciting
My Gabriel's salutation piteously.
Whenever he beholds me, it is so,
Who is more sweet than any words can show.

I spent too long in the shadows ... I'm looking forward to being in the light with you.

I have a problem with anger. I have a bad temper. I have trouble controlling it, and when I lose my temper I can be very destructive.

She was sweetness and light, gentleness and goodness, and the burning and searing goal of all his earthly hunts and fascinations.

Don't you think you deserve to be the center of someone's universe? Instead of chasing after someone who wants someone else?

That's my Heaven. And my Hell.

We don't have to forget the past," he whispered. "But we can make the future better.

In addition to her boulangerie and fromagerie French, she knew enough of the language to realize that the title of Rodin's sculpture, Le Baiser in French, was part of its subversion. For baiser in French could mean either the innocence of a kiss or the animalistic quality of a f*ck. One could say le baiser and refer to a kiss, but if one said, Baise-moi, one was begging to be f*cked. Both innocence and begging were wrapped up in the embrace of these two lovers whose lips never touched: frozen together, yet separated for all eternity. Julia wanted to free them from their frozen embrace, and she secretly hoped her thesis would allow her to do so.

She was both perfect and untouchable, a brown-eyed angel dressed in resplendent white, while he was older, world-weary and wanting.

You are the soul of comedy, Mrs. Emerson.

Evil had its own logic and it was not something he, given his own moral code, would ever understand. And humans think we are monsters.

I don' mean to be at all ... St. Francis of Assisi or something, but anyone can shout obscenities. Why should I become like her? Why not think that sometimes- just sometimes- you can overcome evil with silence? And let people hear their hatefulness in their own ears, without distraction. Maybe goodness is enough to expose evil for what it really is, sometimes. Rather than trying to stop evil with more evil. Not that I'm good. I don't think I'm good.

You blossom under kindness, don't you? Like a rose.

I will never be worthy of her. But I spend every day trying my damnedest.

I'd like to be your friend," Gabriel said, gazing down at her. "And I'm going to keep my little friend very close to make sure she doesn't run away again.

When Gabriel returned, he eagerly opened the wine, smiling to himself wickedly. He was in for a treat, and he knew it. He knew how Julianne looked when she tasted wine, and now he would have a repeat of her erotic performance from the other night. He felt himself twitch more than once in anticipation and wished that he had a video camera secretly placed in his condo somewhere. It would probably be too obvious to pull his camera out and take snapshots of her. He showed her the bottle first, noting with approval the impressed expression that passed across her face when she read the label. He'd brought this special vintage back from Tuscany, and it would have pained him to waste it on an undiscerning palate. He poured a little into her glass and stood back, watching, and trying very hard not to grin. Just as before, Julia swirled the wine slowly. She examined it in the halogen light. She closed her eyes and sniffed. Then she wrapped her kissable lips around the rim of the goblet and tasted it slowly, holding the wine in her mouth for a moment or two before swallowing. Gabriel sighed, watching her as the wine traveled down her long and elegant throat.

Of course, one might object that it is impossible for one person, one woman, to represent the ideal of both agape and eros. If you will allow my indulgence for a moment, I will suggest that such skepticism is a form of misogyny. For only a misogynist would argue that women are either saints or seductresses - virgins and whores. Of course, a woman, or a man for that matter, can be both - the muse can be lover to both soul and body.

But he was not her Gabriel. Her Gabriel was dead. Gone. Leaving behind only vestiges of him in the body of a harsh and tortured clone. Gabriel had almost broken Julia's heart once. She was determined she would not let him break her heart for the second time.

Book of Common Prayer "With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I endow." "That vow is a pledge that the husband will make love to his wife, and not use her just for sex. The vow expressed the idea that making love is an act of worship. The husband worships his wife with his body, by loving her and giving to her and moving with her toward ecstasy.

Love is doing a kindness for someone else, not expecting to receive anything in return.

Gabriel caught her hand in his and pressed his open mouth to her palm. Julianne, you were never just my student. You're my soul mate. My bashert.

Of all the gifts God gave me, he thought, the greatest one is you.

Love creates; it doesn't destroy.

Julia never asked herself why bad things happen to good people, for she already knew the answer: bad things happen t everyone. Not that this was an excuse or a justification for wronging another human being. Still, all humans had this shared experience- that of suffering. No human being left this world without shedding a tear,of feeling pain,or wading into the sea of sorrow. Why should her life be any different? Why should she expect special, favoured treatment? Even Mother Teresa suffered, and she was a saint.

But I want to be your last.

Tell me you want me or get out

God wants to rescue us, not destroy us. You don't have to be afraid of being happy, thinking that he wants to take that happiness away from you That's not who he is." "How can you be sure?" "Because when you've had a taste of goodness, it helps you recognize the difference between good and evil. I believe that people like Grace and St. Francis and a whole host of other kind, loving people show us what God is like. He isn't waiting to punish you and he doesn't give you blessings just to strip them away.

I was thinking about how I waited for you. I waited and waited, and you never came.

I am not a good man. I'm not a man at all. But I love you and my love is certainly steadfast.

This was the joy that the world sought
sacred and pagan all at once. A union between two dissimilars into a seamless one. A picture of love and deep satisfaction. An ecstatic glimpse of the beatific vision.

My Dearest Julianne,
Thank you for your immeasurable gift.
The only thing I have of value is my heart.
It's yours,
Gabriel.

Many people fail to see how modesty and sweetness of temper compound erotic appeal.

Light a candle against the darkness...

In addition to being an ass and a pompous prick, he was a knuckle-dragging, potentially mouth-breathing Neanderthal who felt some proprietary ownership over a younger woman he barely knew and who hated him.

This is the culmination of all my hopes, Gabriel. Julia reached out to him and he strained to catch her pinky finger with his own. This is my happy ending.

If I lose you, I lose everything. You are the only goodness in my world.

Sometimes people, when left alone, can hear their own hatefulness for themselves. Sometimes goodness is enough to expose evil for what it really is.

In a perfect world, there would always be communication and consultation between partners. But we don't live in that world. There are emergencies and dangerous, vindictive people.

Job, requiring intellectual ability and acuity

I will always be conscious of your absence.

Lillian Hellman wrote a play called The Little Foxes. In it a young girl tells her mother that some people eat the earth, like locusts, and others stand around and watch them do it.

She felt him through the fabric of her dress, hearing the silk taffeta rustle like a breathless woman. The dress clearly wanted more.

The brown-eyes angel was weeping over the demon. The angel wept because she was grieved at the mere thought of someone hurting him

Gabriel smiled slowly. I will always need you, Julianne.

He was distressed to learn that the Pottery Barn Kids gift registry did not extend to children's books in Italian or Yiddish.

Sin isn't something that is attracted to a human being, Professor. It's the other way around.

Before he left, Julia extended her hand. He took it, pressing his lips to her palm.
I don't regret this, she whispered.
He pulled back. The pain medication seemed to be affecting her thought processes.
What don't you regret, darling?
Getting pregnant. After this is over, we're going to have a little girl. We'll be a family. Forever.
He gave her a tight smile and kissed her forehead. I'll see you in a few minutes. You stay strong.

Don't you think she's had her quota of assholes?

I don't like to think of anything as hopeless

She wanted to be someone's muse - to be worshipped and adored, body and soul. She wanted to play Beatrice to a dashing and noble Dante and to inhabit Paradise with him forever. And to live a life that would rival the beauty of Botticelli's illustrations.

I care for you-you're precious to me. And one of the most precious things to me is your voice. Please tell me what you want, what you need, what you desire ...