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Quote by Shaye Evans

“You saved me, again.” I glanced around, thankful no one was around or they would have been staring. I felt so stupid in his arms. Small, weak, and klutzy. The side of Brett’s mouth quirked as his brows pulled together. “Again?” “Last night,” I murmured, looking back at him as he set me down beside him. “You’re like a knight—always there when I need you.” “I’m no knight, Colt. Far from it—you know that.” ”Robin Hood, then.” He chuckled.”

Quote by Shaye Evans

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“Oh yeah, and how do I know that? Because from where I stand, if you hadn’t stepped in, I think he might have.” He laughed. “Damien doesn’t even know what he’s doing. He spiked your drink because he was nervous—why do you think he backed down so easily?” “So that makes it all okay, does it?” I snapped. “Because he was too nervous to get laid for the first time the simple, safe way? That’s petty and sick...” Then something occurred to me. “But why me?” Brett dropped his gaze to his tan suede hiking boots. He paused and tapped a toe against the linoleum. “Brett?” I snapped, knowing he was keeping something from me. “I may have suggested he talk to you,” he murmured. “What? Oh for fuck’s sake!” “Damien wouldn’t have hurt you, Colt.”

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“I was denying myself. I knew, but… I was faced with the past again, you know. To admit that I liked you, I had to also admit that I’m gay, and while I don’t have a problem with that…” He trailed off, sighing as he shook his head. “It’s confusing.” “No, it’s not.” I took his hand and twined our fingers. For some reason, it felt familiar. “You don’t want to be the gay kid who made his father crash, but by admitting you like me, you had to face your past… like I do every day.”

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“Lorsque l'amour existe réellement, l'amant devient la nourriture de l'Aimé ; ce n'est pas l'Aimé qui est la nourriture de l'amant, car l'Aimé ne peut être contenu dans la capacité de l'amant (...) Le papillon qui est devenu l'amant de la flamme, a pour nourriture, tant qu'il est encore à distance, la lumière de cette aurore. C'est le signe avant-coureur de l'illumination matutinale qui l'appelle et qui l'accueille. Mais il lui faut continuer de voler jusqu'à ce qu'il la rejoigne. Lorsqu'il y est arrivé, ce n'est plus à lui de progresser vers la flamme, c'est la flamme qui progresse en lui. Ce n'est pas la flamme qui lui est une nourriture, c'est lui qui est la nourriture de la flamme. Et c'est là un grand mystère. Un instant fugitif il devient son propre Aimé (puisqu'il est la flamme). Et sa perfection, c'est cela.”

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