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Quote by Nyki Mack

“My head rested against your chest like a love song is the rhythm of your heart... That seems to be a serenade only for me assuring me that we will never be apart.”

Quote by Nyki Mack

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Nyki Mack

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“In a society where physicality takes preference over the content of the psyche, relationships can only be pleasurable for merely a few years, or alas, months. And that’s why the countless “I do”s of the world have become merely a matter of valueless words of over-glorified principles, without the foundation of purity and awareness to begin with. Hence, before anyone could foresee and comprehend, the “I do”s become “I do not”s. So, be aware of the outside, but focus on the inside. And here I am not condemning physical attraction, rather I am saying be aware of the outside, but be more watchful of the inside than the outside.”

“There is no power like that of prevailing prayer - of Abraham pleading for Sodom, Jacob wrestling in the stillness of the night, Moses standing in the breach, Hannah intoxicated with sorrow, David heartbroken with remorse and grief, Jesus in sweat and blood. Add to this list from the records of the church your personal observation and experience, and always there is cost of passion unto blood. Such prayer prevails. It turns ordinary mortals into men of power. It brings power. It brings fire. It brings rain. It brings life. It brings God.”

“I was asked: You write some intimate scenes in your stories on You Me & Stories but they are not explicit. Why so? Have you considered writing an erotica? Why would I want to write a sex scene in detail, when the actual fun is in guiding the reader, helping them visualise and letting their imagination run wild! To answer the second part of the question - No. I am happy with the way I write now. There is a very thin line between sensual and erotica. I prefer staying on the sensual side.”

“Returning to bed, Rachel strokes Zachariah's black curls as he drifts into sleep and appreciates the shape and fractal geometry there, the self-similarity and infinity of scale. She breathes in at his scalp, then presses her ear to his, listening for the clamour of voices within, to the long line of fighting men who made him, his head a seashell. There is a template for the fighting man. Rachel listens across three times nine countries, as the fairy-tale saying goes, across three times nine countries in the thirtieth tsardom . . .”