My confession begins," Father S said, "as the confessions of many men begin - with three words"

"Father forgive me?" Michael hazarded a guess. Father S signed.

"I met Eleanor.

Michael, Eleanor is without a doubt the most beautiful woman who has ever or will ever live. If you could take a nighttime thunderstorm and turn it into a woman, you would have a very good idea what she looks like. And a fairly good idea how she behaves as well.

You are my heart,” he said. He’d said those very words to her that morning. But that morning, they’d sounded affectionate and playful. Now he said them as if he were stating a fact of anatomy. “I will not lose you. I’m sending you away to keep you safe. Do you understand? Say ‘Yes, sir.’”
Nora nodded and swallowed a sudden lump in her throat.
”Yes, sir.”
Soren bent his head and kissed her long and slow before pulling back.

Are you threatening me, Ms. Sutherlin?”
Sutherlin only smiled.
“No. Of course not. All I’m saying is that I’ll do anything
to protect him. Anything at all. But there’s no need to worry.
I’ve hurt people. I’ve hurt them badly. I’ve left permanent
scars on some clients. Some outer scars. Some inner. But all
that pain I’ve inflicted…it was all consensual. I’ve never hurt anyone without their permission. All I’m saying, Ms. Kanter, is…” Sutherlin leaned forward and pressed the lightest, softest, most terrifying kiss onto Suzanne’s lips before pulling back an inch and whispering, “There’s a first time for everything.

Nothing tastes nor smells psychologically as good as the original.

Hope is merely another face of desire. And desire is a motherfucker.