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Quote by Teo Soh Lung

“I hated the threat that if I did not appear on television, I would not be released on the 31st day. Why should a television appearance affect the length of my detention? Surely they must decide whether to release me or not according to culpability, not according to whether I agree to a television appearance. What has a television appearance got to do with the security of my country?”

Quote by Teo Soh Lung

Book:Beyond The Blue Gate: Recollections of a Political Prisoner
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Beyond The Blue Gate: Recollections of a Political Prisoner

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Teo Soh Lung

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“Lihansyömistä ei voida puolustaa kulinaarisilla eikä terveydellisillä syillä, koska lihansyönnistä pidättäytymisen haitta ei ole verrannollinen lihantuotannosta eläimille aiheutettuun haittaan. Kenelläkään ei ole oikeutta syödä toista hyvin tai maun vuoksi. Myöskään tottumus tai tavat eivät oikeuta lihansyöntiä. Siitä, että olemme tottuneet tekemään jotakin, ei voida johtaa moraalista oikeutta tekoon.”

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“And that's when the doorbell rings. Marcus freezes. As do I. "That must be your friend," I somehow manage to say, even though my throat is trying to close. Marcus is clearly torn between remaining immobile and opening the door. The bell rings again. "Want me to get it?" "No," he says. "No." I stand, not knowing what to do while he slowly springs open the door. Not surprisingly, Marcus's old schoolfriend is a petite and extraordinarily pretty brunette. She steps into the apartment and kisses Marcus full on the lips. "Hello, darling," she says. Marcus recoils slightly and casts a worried glance in my direction which his friend follows. "Hi," I say, extending my hand as I try to force my face into a smile. She takes it. Her hand is cool and delicate, as slender as the rest of her. "I'm Lucy," I continue brightly. "Marcus's girlfriend." Now it's her turn to recoil. "This is my friend, Joanne," Marcus says tightly. I look at my lover. "An old schoolfriend. That's what you said, isn't it?" I turn back to Joanne. "Which school did you go to with Marcus? Primary? Grammar? Or maybe it was the harsh school of life?" His old schoolfriend looks at him blankly. "I don't know quite what's going on here, Marcus," she says. "But I don't think that I want to be a part of it." She turns away from him, spinning on her heel toward the door. "Jo," Marcus pleads as he catches her sleeve. "Don't go." And I think that's my cue to leave. "Oh, Marcus," I say sadly. "Do you have so little respect for me?" "I can explain," he says, and I notice that he's still looking at Jo rather than at me. "You're welcome to stay and listen to it," I say to Jo. "I'll be the one to leave." Marcus does nothing to stop me, so I hitch up my gym bag once more and move toward the door. "It's been nice meeting you," I say to Marcus's new love. "You'll enjoy your dinner. It smells wonderful. It even covers the smell of a rat. The chocolates are great, by the way. I hope you both choke on them.”

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“So, what...in the meantime, you just...” He glanced at her then back at the road. “Deny yourself?” Em gave a half smile at the incredulity in his voice. Clearly it was a foreign concept to him. “It’s okay. I have a battery operated boyfriend awaiting my attention when I get home.” He shot her a quick, open-mouthed stare, his lips parted enticingly. He looked so stunned at her admission she couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry, didn’t you know that women did that, too? Did I shock you?” “Not at all.” He recovered quickly, a big smile splitting his profile. “I’m just trying to decide which is sexier. Self-denial or self-abuse.”

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“But...a vibrator can’t hold you in its arms or give you the full-body experience.” Em clamped down on the wicked surge of heat between her legs, thinking about a full-body experience with Lincoln Quinn. “It’s not going to make me lie in the wet spot, either.” “It can’t snuggle with you after,” he countered with another laugh. Em snorted. “And that’s your specialty, is it? Hanging around for pillow talk?” “I’ll have you know I give very good pillow talk.” Sure. And Elvis was alive and living at Henley Stadium. “Right,” she muttered. “Of course you do.” “I really do.” He nodded. “Most women seem to be more interested in me giving them good head, but hey, I’m a full service kinda guy.”

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“You should really go inside now,” he said. Her glazed, unfocused stare was starting to clear, and the cranky look he was used to being levelled at him started to take shape. “And if I don’t?” “You want to fuck me on your doorstep?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly. “Call me tomorrow when you’re sober. I’ll be right over.” She jutted her chin defiantly—clearly pissed at him for trying to be the responsible one. “I won’t need you after I’ve spent all night with a couple of multi-speed toyfriends and a box of batteries.” Linc shoved his hands on his hips, pushing back unhelpful images of her naked and pleasuring herself with a hot pink cock. “Go inside,” he growled. Before he did something crazy like offering to watch.”

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