The opposite of love isn’t hate. It’s indiference. -- He used to look right through me. Like I was air. When I was gone he started feeling a craving. A thirst that could not be quenched with liquid.
You never notice the air around you until it’s gone.
The opposite of pleasure isn’t pain. It’s lack of sensation. – He used to grip my waist with such strength that I was left to contemplate the way the bruise changed from dark purple to pale yellow. He used to kiss my wrists and then bite the soft skin until pearl like drops of blood stained his lips.
The opposite of black isn’t white, it’s gray. Because it strips the world of the certainty that good and evil offer.d
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