Immortal Dark Quotes

You leave me tied up like a dog? Then you had better remember that this bitch bites!

His debtors always assumed he'd demand their firstborn. Like I'm fucking Rumpelstiltskin? What would Lothaire do with countless squalling babes? Raise them in a kennel?

Have you ever fought an opponent you had no defense against? Like a fire breather or an acid spitter?" "Once I faced a female with diamond skin," Nix said breathlessly. "I was transfixed - even as she was choking the life out of me." "Really?" "No, I saw that character on X-Men. I just wanted to commiserate. Alas, I have no weaknesses.

When he watched her sleeping, he often thought, My heart lies vulnerable outside my chest.

Can’t hear… call back… good luck…” “Nïx, I know you’re faking the static.” She could picture her sister blowing into her fist directly at the receiver. The static abruptly stopped. “Why?” “It seemed less rude than the alternative.” “What’s that?” Click.

I never knew I could hate someone as deeply as I do you.” “I often help others discover the outer limits of their hatred. It’s a talent of mine.

Admit it, love, you like it when I'm a little bad....

SHE MAY BE AN EVIL BITCH, BUT SHE IS MY EVIL BITCH. AND I'LL HAVE NO OTHER

And exactly how old are you MacRieve ?" "Twelve hundreds, give or take." "Great Hekate, you're a relic. Don't you have a museum exhibit to be in somewhere ?

Fate has a way of getting what she wants, no matter how we try to avoid it.

Let's put the fun back in funeral!

Life is still life. It’s still tough, complicated, and more than a little messy, with lessons to be learned, mistakes to be made, triumphs and disappointments to be had, and not every day is meant to be a party.

My feelings for you are not conditional. I don't judge you. I don't lose patience with you. I don't punish you. I just love you. That's all. Pure and simple.

I had just heard tales that the Valkyrie were large warriors, akin to Amazons.” “If you’re the sole survivor of an army attacked by us, are you going to say we had our asses handed to us by petite, nubile females, or by she-monsters who can bench Buicks?

That's what true love is. It cannot be broken, it cannot be chipped away, it's eternal, everlasting, and it can weather any storm.

You've maddened me for you...have changed everything. So, I'm going to f*ck you long and hard, beauty, because if I'm to be enslaved by you-I want to be your master as well.

Gods, I love it when you talk mathy to me.

Evil is a point of view. We are immortal. And what we have before us are the rich feasts that conscience cannot appreciate and mortal men cannot know without regret. God kills, and so shall we; indiscriminately He takes the richest and the poorest, and so shall we; for no creatures under God are as we are, none so like Him as ourselves, dark angels not confined to the stinking limits of hell but wandering His earth and all its kingdoms.

First of all, I'm not narcissistic." When she opened her lips to argue, he said, "I know Narkissos of Thespiae -- while we might share traits, I came first, so he's Lothairistic, not the other way around.

Never run from one such as me, female. You will no’ get away - and we like it.

People think happiness will simply fall into their laps. You have to aspire to it. And sometimes you have to seize it when it’s kicking and screaming.

I can draw you a diagram. Hint: I'm slot B, and you're tab A.

They desecrate Riora’s sacred temple! She will be enraged.” “Oh, gods, look at the marble. We are all beyond doomed.” “Somebody put a plant in front of it!

Look, it's not you. It's me, and my inability to dig dirty dudes.

Our past may shape us, but it doesn't define who we become.

Elizabeth, With my compliments. You will never get your claws into another one of mine. Rot in hell, L Nïx clasped her hands over her chest, sighing, “He gave you his heart. That’s so romantic. So much better than a candy heart. Those get stuck in the fangs, you know.

He jerked back. "What is this? Be like you were with me the other times! When you melted for me." "That was before I fully understood what a nasty piece of work you are." "Because of a few shifter beheadings? Come on, Lizvetta, it's not as if I went around cock-slapping gnomes." Her jaw dropped.

I'm not interested in a life that doesn't have you in it.

Hey Lucia, Pay up, suckah, Emma got dental with some dude.

Please put your penises away, gentlemen. Dinner is procured. By a woman.

When she absently worried her bottom lip with one of her adorable little fangs, he sighed. The Enemy of Old fucking sighed. Dear gods, it’d finally happened to him. Happiness. Then his own fangs sharpened.I will kill anyone who tries to take this feeling away from me.

She seemed to soften at that, but then she asked, "Has anything really changed?" "I've learned I need to consult you in matters, lest you decapitate me.

As Lothaire lifted the lid with a sense of dread, Nïx murmured, “Hint: it’s the middle one.” Elizabeth’s fragile finger.Seeing it severed like this brought on a visceral reaction—pain shooting through his own hand, radiating throughout his regenerated heart. He closed the lid with a swallow, sentimentally pocketing the package. “You gave her your heart, and she gave you the bird.” Nïx sighed. “Songs will be written about this.

Elizabeth is my happiness, he thought again. “I could hate her for what she did to me.” “Because of one unsuccessful beheading?” She tapped her claw to her chin. “Wow. I never thought you were such a pussy. I’m rethinking our friendship.

This is the first time I've really looked at my reflection in months." To the Lykae [Bowen], she said, "No wonder you love me. Could I be any cuter?

Mari began to suspect that this reflection was going to prove to be like that little computer paperclip assistant -- at first it helps, but after a while you just want the paperclip to die.

Darwin says people like you need to die.” (Carrow)

She gazed up at him. "Just don't forget our new motto, Leo. 'We can always murder them later, but we can't bring them back.'" "My wise and clever Bride.

In an incredulous tone, he said, "You don't know the meaning of virtue!" "Of course I do-it means your thong must be white." (Sabine)

Lothaire is very much alive.” “You swear?” “Often. Though not as much as foul-mouthed Regin. I try not to in front of Bertil.” She petted the bat. “I meant—will Lothaire live?” “He will.

How old are you?” “Physiologically, I’m twenty-five. Chronologically, I’m…not.

Lothaire said, “I have a much better plan.” “Why help him?” Thad asked pointedly. “When you don’t help anybody else?” Lothaire exhaled ruefully. “Incurable romantic.

Natalya asked, "How'd you escape all the vampires out for your head?" In a monotone voice, Lothaire stated, "I'm that good.

He'd swiftly collected those monsters' heads, tying them together with a piece of the rope she'd hoped never to see again, then strung them over his shoulder. Periodically, he offered his catch to her. "No, no, I have a pair just like them at home," she'd said. "I would just regift them.

Those swords are mine! Touch them and I’ll use ‘em to slice off your nut sack! For a coin purse!

I have an idea. Let's take off our clothes and fool around on the settee. If I trip and fall and land smack-dab on your cock, then it won't be your fault.

Real love has little to do with falling. It's a climb up the rocky face of a mountain, hard work, and most people are too selfish or too scared to bother. Very few reach the critical point in their relationship that summons the attention of the light and the dark, that place where they will make a commitment to love no matter what obstacles-or temptations- appear in their path.

She will fight for light, and he for dark, Battling through the ages for loves sweet spark. Wherever two souls adore truly, you will find them, lo, The brave Juliet and the wicked Romeo.

Straightaway, she'd called to the guard, "Oh, boys?" She'd sauntered to the glass in only her black lace bra and panties. "I need some assistance," When they slowed, agog, she'd purred, "Can one of you help me find my orgasm?

I don't have the time or patience for games. Now, tell me, why do you...glow ?" "I touched a radioactive alien cock once.

Well maybe we need to Cesar Millan their asses and show them who's boss. Tsst, tsst!

You dress her in a wet T-shirt and make her carry the bags? Damn, Cade, I like how you roll" - Rok

It figures—it’s always either the butler or the resurrected mate.

I do so wish my breasts would stop staring at your eyes.

If I have to scour the entire earth, I'll hunt her down. I will no' falter. One day I will bring my female back to my home - back to my bed...She was born to be found by me. -Garreth MacRieve, King of all Lykae

I’m not antisocial. I just want to be left alone.” ~ Roland

Bad form, Regin! Wrong car." Immediately after, the house shook again. "Oh, much better!" Nix assured them. "That was Bowen's!

Nïx lay on her side, bending her elbow to casually prop her head in her hand. With a sigh she said, “Bowen, I took you on as my pet project because I like to ogle you. Due to your rowr factor.

When I get free, I believe I'll show you your spine. I'll hand it to you so casually, politely even, as if expecting you to remark upon it.

You two. You can do a cleaning spell." One slurred, "But Nixie, I'm really pre-hung-over." Nix's eyes went wide. "Do it, or the photos go live!" The witch shook her fist to the sky, crying, "Damn you, Valkyrie! Damn you and your digital ways!

Ah, but she was a pastel wearer. She was forever dead to Sabine.

He looks at me, the light in his eyes fractures into millions of bits—a kaleidoscope of darkness that may never be fixed.

I’m no expert with females”—the others rolled their eyes at that—“but I believe an attempted decapitation communicates the need for some space.

What’s your favorite place to visit?” He absently answered, “Wherever you are.” “Bowen, five things about you can’t all be about me.” But you’re the only good thing that I’ve got.

We want you gone. Your presence is obviously upsetting for her." "Oh, aye, the poor, wee lass -- who tossed me like a skipping stone.

Aidan from the past: He took her hands in his bloodied, callused ones. “Accept me?” His eyes glowed, his lashes spiked from rain. Declan in the present: He gripped her nape. “I fuckin love you, Regin!” Rain spiked his lashes as he gazed down at her, commanding her, “Love me back!

I'd wear his corsage to an orgy, any day!

Wolfy, is it? And what do you know about my turning?" "I asked around when I figured out I was your... mate." He stood, crossing to her. "Well, let's hear it." "Basically, you'll lose your mind, turning animalistic, hunting me down until you claim me repeatedly, biting my neck and marking me as your possession. Nothing will stop you- no cage can hold you. Did I miss anything? "Aye, Lousha." His gaze raked over her and his voice deepened. "The fact that you're going to like it.

Oh my gods, when do you not sport wood? There are bathrooms in the back, so go burp the worm or whatever.--Regin

God give me anything but a good man's pity.

Illusion is Reality's coy lover who cheers him when he is grim. Illusion is cunning to his wisdom of ages, weet oblivion to his knowledge. A bounty to his lack. [Sabine]

I think I just fell into like with him.

Two things that can never be contained? Velociraptors and zombies. ~Carrow Graie

Then realization had dawned. "Oh, my God, you're the one who hurt Davis, the boy I was with. You saw us together, and you threw him down a gully. He broke both of his legs!" "He lived?" Gaze narrowing, Lothaire had murmured, "Not for much Longer.

You are so young, Lyra, too young to understand this, but I shall tell you anyway and you'll understand it later: men pass in front of our eyes like butterflies, creatures of a brief season. We love them; they are brave, proud, beautiful, clever; and they die almost at once. They die so soon that our hearts are continually racked with pain. We bear their children, who are witches if they are female, human if not; and then in the blink of an eye they are gone, felled, slain, lost. Our sons, too. When a little boy is growing, he thinks he is immortal. His mother knows he isn't. Each time becomes more painful, until finally your heart is broken. Perhaps that is when Yambe-Akka comes for you. She is older than the tundra. Perhaps, for her, witches' lives are as brief as men's are to us.

Yo, beautiful. Come pop this collar off me.” Natalya hissed, “Are you mad?” “What’s she gonna do? Vivisect me? Imprison me? We’ve got a pact to fulfill,remember?” To Dorada, she cried, “Seriously, sweetheart, shake that mummified ass over here.” Regin kicked the glass. “Lemme the fuck out—” La Dorada swung her head around,peering at Regin with her one eye. “Okay. That’s freaky. Lookit, Gollum, if you spring me, I’ll help you find your Precious.

Inside the half-basement, they found Wroth alongside Garreth, grappling to hold up the ceiling. The vampire's voice was incongruously calm when he asked, "What kind of idiot would find this a worthy plan?

He's like six hundred years younger than you are. I refuse to be the moral compass of our cell! Most weekends I have an intoxispell bong attached to my mouth like a respirator. I love scatological humor, and I list 'pranks involving nuclear waste' and 'making demons eat things' as my hobbies.

At fifty times the distance, you dispatched that ko-bold with three arrows to the neck. I’ve earned a trio to the chest. Seems you slapped him while you’re tickling me. You doona want to kill me, which is a good sign. Maybe this is your way of flirting?

(Nix and Lothaire conversing) "Have you no mate, female?” he’d asked, intrigued with her, though she was his natural enemy. “I was betrothed to Loki for a time. Which did not proceed smoothly for obvious reasons. So for now I am an unrepentant manizer.” At Lothaire’s blank look, she’d said, “That will be amusing in the twenty-first century.

She, too, is one of Regin’s friends. They’re poker buddies, sisters of the Wii, and Mari is a vaunted member of the karaoke contingent. Regin has long acted as the witches’ designated driver.” “BFF?” Lachlain asked, brows drawn. “Sisters of the what?” Emma supplied, “Best friend forever and a video game.” Lachlain muttered to Emma, “Your relatives are just no’ right.

When the warden appeared outside their cell, he ogled Regin's bared midriff. Gross. Whenever men leered at her, Regin tended to leer back. She canted her head on the floor, turning it one way, then the other. "I finally understand what a dickie-do is. Your gut does stick out more than your dickie do.

What are you trying to prove?" Lucia demanded. Between strikes, he bellowed, "That you should no' have left me!" "You were going to do it to me--don't bother denying it!" When he didn't, she said, "Then why are you different?" Another volley of arrows. "What gives you the right to risk yourself?" He snapped, "Because you could move on if something happened to me.

When she scooped up her clothes, opened his door, then snapped her fingers for a guard down the hall, Wroth watched like a bystander. “Pssst. Minion. I need these laundered. Very little starch. Don’t just stand there gawking or you’ll anger my good frenemy General Wroth. We’re like this.” He couldn’t see her but knew she was twining two fingers together.

When a group of young females had asked her what one should name her horse, she'd answered, "I like the sound of Fellatio." When Rydstrom had confronted Sabine about it, she'd said, "Do you know how priceless it was to hear that demoness sigh, 'I love my Fellatio'? Even gold can't buy moments like that!

This is a kill-or-be-killed scenario, leech," Regin the Radiant, a glowing-skinned millennium-old swordswoman, told Ellie in a baleful tone. "So raise your weapon and prepare for your end. 'Cause I'm about to take your head." Ellie yawned. Ten days of this was getting old. "Girl, I don't wanna play video games anymore.

This is what it's all been about with you," he said in an even tone. "All the fear, all the running. The nightmares." When she nodded, he said, "You called him the devil." "He is." What are you thinking, Scot? "But you... married him?" MacRieve's disgusted with me. "Basically? Yes." "Ceremony and everything?" She swallowed. "He tricked me into it. I-I was only sixteen." A muscle ticked in his cheek and his irises grew pale. "Then know this..." She stopped breathing. "Lass, I'm about to make you a widow--

It's not that kind of love. It's the real kind. The unconditional kind. The nonjudgemental kind. Not the physical kind. I love you as a fellow soul who inhabits this earth. I love you as a fellow immortal. I love you because I finally understand what made you the way you are. And if I could change it, I would. But I can't—so I choose to love you instead. And my hope is that my acceptance of you will spur you to do something good too, but if not—" I shrug. "At least I can say I tried.

And if you don’t think I can hold my own against all those eighteenth-century mortals you were out tagging, then you’re a fool, Casanova.” ... “Oh, yes, I know all about you.” He went still. “What are you talking about?” “I was alive back then. And all the Lore heard about the ruthless warlord brothers from Estonia. The general, the scholar, the enigma, and . . . the manwhore.

The very meaninglessness of life forces man to create his own meaning. Children, of course, begin life with an untarnished sense of wonder, a capacity to experience total joy at something as simple as the greenness of a leaf; but as they grow older, the awareness of death and decay begins to impinge on their consciousness and subtly erode their joie de vivre, their idealism – and their assumption of immortality. As a child matures, he sees death and pain everywhere about him, and begins to lose faith in the ultimate goodness of man. But, if he’s reasonably strong – and lucky – he can emerge from this twilight of the soul into a rebirth of life’s elan. Both because of and in spite of his awareness of the meaninglessness of life, he can forge a fresh sense of purpose and affirmation. He may not recapture the same pure sense of wonder he was born with, but he can shape something far more enduring and sustaining. The most terrifying fact about the universe is not that it is hostile but that it is indifferent; but if we can come to terms with this indifference and accept the challenges of life within the boundaries of death – however mutable man may be able to make them – our existence as a species can have genuine meaning and fulfillment. However vast the darkness, we must supply our own light.

Close your eyes and picture it. Can you see it?" I nod, eyes closed. "Imagine it right there before you. See its texture, shape, and color—got it?" I smile, holding the image in my head. "Good. Now reach out and touch it. Feel its contours with the tips of your fingers, cradle its weight in the palms of your hands, then combine all of your senses—sight, touch, smell, taste—can you taste it?" I bite my lip and suppress a giggle. "Perfect. Now combine that with feeling. Believe it exists right before you. Feel it, see it, touch it, taste it, accept it, manifest it!" he says. So I do. I do all of those things. And when he groans, I open my eyes to see for myself. "Ever." He shakes his head. "You were supposed to think of an orange. This isn't even close." "Nope, nothing fruity about him." I laugh, smiling ateach of my Damens—the replica I manifested before me, and the flesh and blood version beside me. Both of them equally tall, dark, and so devastatingly handsome they hardly seem real.

I hope they're in town. I want to face them!” Regin stood and brandished one of the two swords that she usually wore in sheaths crisscrossed on her back in addition to the dagger sheath she customarily wore on her forearm. "I'll lunch on their balls!" That was Regin’s new threat: to lunch on enemies' balls. "Reege, when you threaten males with that, I don't think it has the result you intend. They think less Lunchables, more tea bag.

Nix to Declan: Begin transcript— Testing. Hello, hellooo, anybody out there? Check, check, one, two. Soft pee. Puh, puh. Resonance! Sooooooft pee. Alpha bravo disco tango duck. This is Nïx! I’m the Ever-Knowing One, a goddess incandescent, incomparable, and irresistible. But enough about what you think of me. It’s a beautiful day in New Orleans. The wind is out of the east at a steady five knots and clouds look like rabbits … But enough about what you think of me! Now, down to business— Squirrel! Where was I? [Long pause] Why am I in Regin’s car? Bertil, you crawl right back out of that bong this minute! Oh, I remember! I am hereby laying down this track for Magister Declan Chase. If you are a mortal of the recorder peon class, know that Dekko and I go waaaaay back, and he’ll go berserk (snicker snicker) if he doesn’t receive this transmittal. … Chase, riddle me this: what’s beautiful but monstrous, long of tooth but sharp of tooth and soft of mind, and can never ever tell a lie? That’s right. The Enemy of Old can be very useful to you. So use him already. P.S. Your middle name’s about to be spelled r-e-g-r-e-t. And with that, I must bid you adieu. Don’t worry, we’ll catch up very soon. … [Muffled] Who’s mummy’s wittle echolocator? That’s right—you are! —End transcript

When his thumb hovered over the red button, she stared at him aghast. “You’re truly going to … torture me?” He cast her a puzzled look. “Why wouldn’t I torture you?” Because you used to love me, used to cherish me. “I thought we had a moment yesterday? Didn’t you like seeing me in lingerie?” In a monotone voice, he said, “Why did the charge throwers have no ill effect on you?” He’s truly going to do it? Then fuck him. DEFCON. “Chase, I’ve tussled with vibrators stronger than your charge throwers.” No reaction. “You consumed energy. And channeled it at will. How?” All Valkyrie consumed it—they were each connected through a grid of mystical energy—but Regin was the only one she knew of who could radiate it through her body. She’d inherited the talent from her birth mother. “So how does one get started as a magister? College or trade school?” “I don’t have the time or patience for games. Now, tell me, why do you … glow?” “I touched a radioactive alien cock once.” He pressed the button.

Cadeon, can you hear me?" He didn't open his eyes. "Nothing wrong with my ears." "Of course not." She laid the cloth on his forehead. "So . . you and Tera seemed close." "Been through a lot." "Was she your girlfriend?" He gave a laugh that sounded like a grunt. "Not at all." "And you really didn't sleep with Imatra?" "Bloody hell, noooo, I didn't . . . She's a slag." "Then why did you kiss her?" Holly asked. "Directions. . . and to see." "To see what?" "That it wouldn't be all that bad without you." This was interesting. "Did you make a determination?" He gave a bitter laugh. "It'll be all that bad." Oh, Cadeon. "You've known I was your female for a year?" He nodded. "Why I would be chosen for you?" "Fate decides . . . who I can be most satisfied with." Nibbling her lip, she asked, "Have you slept with anyone else since you knew it was me?" "Gave a halfhearted try for a witch . . . she wanted a werewolf instead." There was no getting around it--Holly was jealous of the witch. But then Cadeon said, "And I wanted you.

Ara?" She jerked her face up. "Huh? Where were we?" But his expression had grown serious, the lesson forgotten. He interlaced his fingers and said, "We are bound." "Bound?" He collected a piece of rope, knotting it. "Oh, you mean bound?" He gave a nod, then drew in the sand. An infinity symbol? "Clever demon, how did you know that...?" He was gazing at her with a question in his eyes. "Bound forever?" And somehow she met his gaze and lied, "Yes, demon. Bound forever." As if to make her feel guiltier, he gathered her into his arms, cupping her face against his broad chest. His voice a deep rumble, he said, "Carrow is Malkom's." She wanted to sob. "Yes?" "Yes," she answered, wishing that it could be so simple between them. Demon meets girl. Girl might be falling for demon.

It was lunar symbolism that enabled man to relate and connect such heterogeneous things as: birth, becoming, death, and ressurection; the waters, plants, woman, fecundity, and immortality; the cosmic darkness, prenatal existence, and life after death, followed by the rebirth of the lunar type ("light coming out of darkness"); weaving, the symbol of the "thread of life," fate, temporality, and death; and yet others. In general most of the ideas of cycle, dualism, polarity, opposition, conflict, but also of reconciliation of contraries, of coincidentia oppositorum, were either discovered or clarified by virtue of lunar symbolism. We may even speak of a metaphysics of the moon, in the sense of a consistent system of "truths" relating to the mode of being peculiar to living creatures, to everything in the cosmos that shares in life, that is, in becoming, growth and waning, death and ressurrection.

Nix and Lothaire: When the collar dropped to the ground, Lothaire rolled his head on his neck. But instead of disappearing immediately, he traced to stand mere feet from Nïx. A towering vampire with skin like marble and chillingly flawless features was staring down a petite Valkyrie with crazed eyes and a cryptic smile. The tension between the two was palpable. Even on the verge of flipping the fuck out, Regin couldn’t look away. “The Accession grinds on, does it not?” Lothaire said. “Just like old times.” Nïx winked. “Alas, Dorada will come for you once she rises again.” “I’ll be ready.” He narrowed his red eyes. “You’ve likely foreseen this moment. Tell me, are we to fight now? As in the past?” “You defy foresight, Lothaire.” “That’s only fair, Phenïx, since you’ve long defied insight.” Phenïx? Nïx canted her head. “What does your Endgame tell you?” “That white queen will never take black king.” He gave her a formal bow. “Until our next match.” “There won’t be a next match, vampire.” His brow creased into a frown, the Enemy of Old disappeared.

To keep Velaris safe, to keep Mor and Amren and Cassian and Azriel and… Rhys safe. I said to Lucien, low and quiet and as vicious as the talons that formed at the tips of my fingers, as vicious as the wondrous weight between my shoulder blades, “When you spend so long trapped in darkness, Lucien, you find that the darkness begins to stare back.” A pulse of surprise, of wicked delight against my mental shields, at the dark, membranous wings I knew were now poking over my shoulders. Every icy kiss of rain sent jolts of cold through me. Sensitive—so sensitive, these Illryian wings. Lucien backed up a step. “What did you do to yourself?” I gave him a little smile. “The human girl you knew died Under the Mountain. I have no interest in spending immortality as a High Lord’s pet.” Lucien started shaking his head. “Feyre—” “Tell Tamlin,” I said, choking on his name, on the thought of what he’d done to Rhys, to his family, “if he sends anyone else into these lands, I will hunt each and every one of you down. And I will demonstrate exactly what the darkness taught me.” There was something like genuine pain on his face. I didn’t care. I just watched him, unyielding and cold and dark. The creature I might one day have become if I had stayed at the Spring Court, if I had remained broken for decades, centuries… until I learned to quietly direct those shards of pain outward, learned to savor the pain of others.

In Plaster I shall never get out of this! There are two of me now: This new absolutely white person and the old yellow one, And the white person is certainly the superior one. She doesn't need food, she is one of the real saints. 
At the beginning I hated her, she had no personality -- She lay in bed with me like a dead body 
And I was scared, because she was shaped just the way I was 
 Only much whiter and unbreakable and with no complaints. I couldn't sleep for a week, she was so cold. I blamed her for everything, but she didn't answer. 
I couldn't understand her stupid behavior! 
When I hit her she held still, like a true pacifist. 
Then I realized what she wanted was for me to love her: She began to warm up, and I saw her advantages. 

Without me, she wouldn't exist, so of course she was grateful. 
I gave her a soul, I bloomed out of her as a rose 
Blooms out of a vase of not very valuable porcelain, And it was I who attracted everybody's attention, 
Not her whiteness and beauty, as I had at first supposed. 
I patronized her a little, and she lapped it up -- 
You could tell almost at once she had a slave mentality. 

I didn't mind her waiting on me, and she adored it. 
In the morning she woke me early, reflecting the sun 
From her amazingly white torso, and I couldn't help but notice 
Her tidiness and her calmness and her patience: She humored my weakness like the best of nurses, 
Holding my bones in place so they would mend properly. In time our relationship grew more intense. 

She stopped fitting me so closely and seemed offish. 
I felt her criticizing me in spite of herself, 
As if my habits offended her in some way. She let in the drafts and became more and more absent-minded. 
And my skin itched and flaked away in soft pieces 
Simply because she looked after me so badly. Then I saw what the trouble was: she thought she was immortal. She wanted to leave me, she thought she was superior, 
And I'd been keeping her in the dark, and she was resentful -- Wasting her days waiting on a half-corpse! 
And secretly she began to hope I'd die. Then she could cover my mouth and eyes, cover me entirely, 
And wear my painted face the way a mummy-case Wears the face of a pharaoh, though it's made of mud and water. 

I wasn't in any position to get rid of her. She'd supported me for so long I was quite limp -- I had forgotten how to walk or sit, So I was careful not to upset her in any way 
Or brag ahead of time how I'd avenge myself. Living with her was like living with my own coffin: Yet I still depended on her, though I did it regretfully. I used to think we might make a go of it together -- 
After all, it was a kind of marriage, being so close. 
Now I see it must be one or the other of us. She may be a saint, and I may be ugly and hairy, 
But she'll soon find out that that doesn't matter a bit. I'm collecting my strength; one day I shall manage without her, 
And she'll perish with emptiness then, and begin to miss me. --written 26 Feburary 1961