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Quote by Joey W. Hill

“Sometimes, I think it's like a fable," he said. "One powerful god released all the evil things on the world. Another god, a god of light, could not undo what the other god had done, but he could give us something to make life worth living. So he gave us love." "I'm working on it." He met her gaze. "Working on sharing with you. But I've been places where there are too many dead and I helped increase the body count. Each of those lives meant something to someone. And to the person themselves. But whatever lies beyond…You've helped me remember why it's worth fighting. Living. Even when the lines get so confusing you think you're losing your mind.”

Quote by Joey W. Hill

Book:Mirror of My Soul
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Mirror of My Soul

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Joey W. Hill

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“It's not about fear. It's about never feeling clean, spending years scrubbing your soul raw so you can eat without feeling nauseous, can look in the mirror and meet your own eyes when you put on makeup, brush your hair. To learn to be strong, to run your life and not be a victim of it, knowing in your heart that everything you've built is sitting on a foundation that can sink at any time. And you build it anyway, on faith alone that it won't be shattered, when everything in your life tells you that faith is a fucking joke, but you do it anyway. You do it anyway.(...)”

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“Kicking off the comfortable slides, she ran from him in bare feet, her arms wide like wings, ropes of hair spilling down her back wildly like a glossy cape. His heart had wings of its own, as if he were a young man again with no weights on his heart, but with the wisdom of his present age to know what a tremendous gift this moment was. He caught up with her, seized her hand. They kept running, both running from shadows but running together, throwing off a light that he reflected might keep those shadows cowering in the past where they belonged.”

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“Tyler." She looked up at him. "This is blasphemous." He couldn't resist the heat of his desire, not with her mouth wet with rain and his kiss. Her neck and breasts were beaded with drops while the soft pinkness of her flesh showed through the cotton dress. Lovely, natural. "This isn't sin." He managed the words in a voice thick with want. "It's sacred. Everything I do with you, every touch, every kiss, every word murmured in reverence against your flesh, is sacred. And you're cold. I want to warm you.”

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