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The people you endeavor to make happy—they are selfish then, to care that you do not anger them but only please them. (104)

My existence was a burden to all involved with it and I resolved to never make a demand if I could help it. Then, perhaps, I could be tolerated. Then, perhaps, I could be loved. (Lenore my FEELINGS)

I wonder for what you hunger, and whether you allow yourself to feel it.

“To be a woman is a horror I can little comprehend.”

They were beautiful together; they were magic and monstrous, and they had created a whole vengeful world between them.

He thought maybe you could love someone so much you ruined them, and then you ruined yourself.

They could be so beautiful to each other. They could be so cruel.

He wanted to kiss Thomas. He wanted to press their bloody mouths together with a hunger he thought would kill him.

It hit Andrew then, how Thomas would sacrifice the world for him without thinking. How terrible that was. How part of Andrew’s chest caved in with the relief of knowing it.

“He craves Thomas’s affection, with an intensity that left him dizzy. If he never had more, he had this. It was almost worth being ripped apart by monsters.”