Serena Quotes

Serena hadn't told Sydney to go home. She hadn't told her to run away. She told her to go somewhere safe. And over the course of the last week, safe had ceased to be a place for Sydney, and had become a person. Specifically, safe had become Victor.

Not that she didn't love almost every boy she'd ever met, and not that every boy in the world didn't totally love her. It was impossible not to. But she wanted someone to love her and shower her with attention the way only a boy who was completely in love with her could. The rare sort of love. True love. The kind of love she'd never had.

You'll call me Damon. I see no need for dramatic titles. I, on the other hand will call you beautiful, lover, mine. I'll call you mine." (Damon to Serena)

Oh, don't be a spoilsport. Gossip is sexy. Gossip is good. Not everybody does it, but everybody should!

Qué fácil callar, ser serena y objetiva con los seres que no me interesan verdaderamente, a cuyo amor o amistad no aspiro. Soy entonces calma, cautelosa, perfecta dueña de mí misma. Pero con los poquísimos seres que me interesan… Allí está la cuestión absurda: soy una convulsión, un grito, sangre aullando.

I smiled then—a big, toothy idiotic smile— and Serena didn't see it. Her eyes were closed, which was good, because I was turning into one big vagina.

Somehow, in the relatively short time I’d known Serena, she had wiggled her way into my cold body. She was my light, my warmth, and I wasn’t ready to let her go.

A world where it is safe to love is a world where it is safe to live

And Ulysses stopped up his ears against the siren’s song,” recited Victor, pulling the plugs from his own ears as Serena collapsed to the dirt lot, “for it was death.

It wasn’t about the age-old battle of Arum versus Luxen. I wasn’t fighting to feed or to work off aggression. I wasn’t fighting because I was told or was obligated. I was fighting for Serena. She meant everything to me. Knowing that, fully understanding what that mean, I was on a motherfucking warpath.

Because make no mistake, Serena. I do bite. ~Wraith

If there was ever a dress that can be an aphrodisiac the one Serena was wearing now had to be it

I will not be browbeaten, however nicely you do it. I am done with things happening to me. From here on out, I am going to happen to things.

It's a hard place this world can be. No wonder a baby cries coming in to it. Tears from the start

It's as if I've stepped off the edge of a cliff, and even though my heart's in my mouth and my stomach is in knots, I'm the most excited I've ever been in my life. I'm totally enthralled by him. I want him, every part of him, and I desperately want him to feel the same way about me.

SYDNEY Clarke died on a cool March day. It was just before lunch, and it was all Serena’s fault.

Don't love anything that can be taken away.

Who knew Demon Child would have such a normal name? I expected something exotic like Serena or Destiny or the Evil One That Comes in the Night to Make Us Chilly.

Then we had the irises, rising beautiful and cool on their tall stalks, like blown glass, like pastel water momentarily frozen in a splash, light blue, light mauve, and the darker ones, velvet and purple, black cat's ears in the sun, indigo shadow, and the bleeding hearts, so female in shape it was a surprise they'd not long since been rooted out. There is something subversive about this garden of Serena's, a sense of buried things bursting upwards, wordlessly, into the light, as if to point, to say: Whatever is silenced will clamor to be heard, though silently.

Why don't you put your ego down for a while, Justin. It must be getting heavy.

Yes, I killed him, Serena. He was very dead.

Serena hated to admit how easy and addictive it was, getting her way, even when it made her miserable.

You got one choice at the beginning but if you didn't choose right, things got narrow real quick.

The Vamp Council hung a portrait of me on their hero wall. How's that for ironic?' 'Especially since they showed it to you just before they tortured you for Serena's turning,' Shade said. Wraith snorted again. 'Fuckers'.

We stared at each other for several moments, neither of us speaking or moving, and then I was in front of her, pulling her to my chest, breathing in her scent as I went down on my knees, bring her with me. Her arms went around me and she held on just as tightly as I held her. It was then when I realized I was still in my true form. She was light against my darkness. Serena hadn't backed away or hesitated. She accepted me, all of me. She always had.

To die, one must first have been alive. And the Beast could finally say that by finding love, he had lived.

Be not forgetful to entertain strangers; for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.

Nothing is but what is now

It’s ever been the way of the man of science or philosophy. Most folks stay in the dark and then complain they can’t see nothing.” – Snipes (185)

His voice is hoarse. "I am going to make love to you now." He says, "So if you want me to stop, tell me." I shake my head frantically. If he stops at this point, I'll probably die.

One thing's sure and nothing surer. The rich get richer and the poor get- children

Never hit a man with a closed fist," he told her. He could feel her pulse. "Why? Because it gives you an excuse to manhandle me?" He let go. "Slap his face instead." "Ha." "It will make him take you less seriously, and then he won't be expecting it when you knee him in the groin.

Look at history,” Eva continued, rubbing a temple. “Roxanne Shanté out-rapping grown men at fourteen. Serena winning the US Open at seventeen. Mary Shelley writing Frankenstein at eighteen. Josephine Baker conquering Paris at nineteen. Zelda Fitzgerald’s high school diary was so fire that her future husband stole entire passages to write The Great Gatsby. The eighteenth-century poet Phillis Wheatley published her first piece at fourteen, while enslaved. Joan of Arc. Greta Thunberg. Teen girls rearrange the fucking world.

The words wounded deeper than the bruises and the scars from any physical pain he inflicted on me. At least those wounds healed.

To be able to recognize your soul's mates, you are experiencing life on a very high spiritual level.They are a piece of Heaven on Earth...Now that is astronomical!"-Serena Jade

Serena was very good at telling tales. She had always been convincing (that was the word her sister liked to use for lying).

It struck her how eating was a comfort during a hard time because it reminded you that there had been other days, good days, when you’d eaten the same thing. Reminded you there were good days in life, when precious little else did. (268)

Aren’t you picturesque.” The voice was cool and warm at once. Serena clutched her books to her chest and looked down at him. “What were you thinking about?” she asked. “Killing you,” he said. It was almost freeing, not being able to lie.

And darkness. You can’t see it no more than you can see air, but when it’s all around you sure enough know it.

The Soul is ineffable, therefore true Soul Mates are Indescribably Connected."-Author Serena Jade

He kissed me. And then he said it was a mistake." Serena wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "Normally, I'd quote that copy of He's Just Not That Into You I picked up at a yard sale but-

She realized that being starved for words was the same as being starved for food, because both left a hollow place inside you, a place you needed filled to make it through another day. Rachel remembered how growing up she’d thought living on a farm with just a father was as lonely as you could be. (130)

Then one morning she’d begun to feel her sorrow easing, like something jagged that had cut into her so long it had finally dulled its edges, worn itself down. That same day Rachel couldn’t remember which side her father had parted his hair on, and she’d realized again what she’d learned at five when her mother left – that what made losing someone you loved bearable was not remembering but forgetting. Forgetting the small things first, the smell of the soap her mother had bathed with, the color of the dress she’d worn to church, then after a while the sound of her mother’s voice, the color of her hair. It amazed Rachel how much you could forget, and everything you forgot made that person less alive inside you until you could finally endure it. After more time passed you could let yourself remember, even want to remember. But even then what you felt those first days could return and remind you the grief that was still there, like old barbed wire embedded in a tree’s heartwood.

Some romantic you are," Caine complained as he pushed the door open with his back."Whatever happened to women who liked to be swept off their feet?" "They got dropped," Diana said flatly.

You could make me say it again," he whispered. "Make me say it always. Make me say it so often that you never have cause to doubt. I love you.

The soul cannot be perceived by the five senses.The soul speaks to us through our intuitive mind."-Serena Jade

Llena, pues, de palabras mi locura o déjame vivir en mi serena noche del alma para siempre oscura.

She walks in beauty.

A place where something so terrible had happened shouldn't continue to exist in the world

I smacked my hand across my mouth, muffling my scream. I wasn't sure what to be more freaked out about in this whole fucked-up situation-that light bulb wanted to kill me? or that he was a light bulb? or that Hunter could apparently shadow poof and put his hand inside someone? The options were limitless

Serena Smith,” he began gravely. “From this heartbeat until my last, I share your blood and bone, joy and grief. No words or acts could make me turn from you. You are my pack, my kin, my home.” - AKOE

We want what's in this world but we also want what ain't.

Why do I find it irresistible when you tell me to go to hell so politely?

Others can make us vulnerable and the sooner such vulnerabilities are dealt with the better

I cannot live in fear of losing him, for fear of not living my life at all.

The tendency to avoid problems and the emotional suffering inherent in them is the primary basis of all human mental illness. Since all of us have this tendency to a greater or lesser degree, all of us are mentally ill to a greater or lesser degree.”- M. Scott Peck

Do you always get away with the outrageous?" "Mostly. Are you always s beautiful in the morning?" "Don't waste your charm." "It's all right, I have more.

Intuition is the lifeblood of a woman and the essential character of a man."-Serena Jade

What made losing someone you loved bearable was not remembering but forgetting. Forgetting small things first... it's amazing how much you could forget, and everything you forgot made that person less alive inside you until you could finally endure it. After more time passed you could let yourself remember, even want to remember. But even then what you felt those first days could return and remind you the grief was still there, like old barbed wire embedded in a tree's heartwood.

Nate stared, slack-jawed as the cab merged with the traffic and became impossible to spot. That was it. They chose each other. Just then, the dark sky lit up with fireworks. A cab sailing the street honked in celebration . In the night air , Nate thought he could hear Serena and Blairs' laughter, though he knew that was impossible; they were too far away by now. But as we know, in this city anything is possible

Stanton emerged from the shadows. "So your brother thinks you need a boyfriend?"he teased. "Stop.

She honestly didn’t know what was worse: living her life in the dream world, or living in a world where everyone lied to her.

Tudo em volta induz à loucura, ao infantilismo, à exasperação imaginativa. Contra isso o estudo não basta. Tomem consciência da infecção moral e lutem, lutem, lutem pelo seu equilíbrio, pela sua maturidade, pela sua lucidez. Tenham a normalidade, a sanidade, a centralidade da psique como um ideal. Prometam a vocês mesmos ser personalidades fortes, bem estruturadas, serenas no meio da tempestade, prontas a vencer todos os obstáculos com a ajuda de Deus e de mais ninguém. Prometam SER e não apenas pedir, obter, sentir, desfrutar.

A small profit it better than a big loss

What does a victorious or defeated black woman’s body in a historically white space look like? Serena and her big sister Venus Williams brought to mind Zora Neale Hurston’s “I feel most colored when I am thrown against a sharp white background.” This appropriated line, stenciled on canvas by Glenn Ligon, who used plastic letter stencils, smudging oil sticks, and graphite to transform the words into abstractions, seemed to be ad copy for some aspect of life for all black bodies.

I can't believe I let you talk me into this," muttered Serena, as the number 16 bus rumbled over the bridge connecting the north and south sides of the town. "I didn't talk you into anything," I reminded her as we reached Jason's neighbourhood and began passing a string of progressively nicer - and larger - houses. "You invited yourself along." "Okay, then I can't believe you didn't talk me out of this.

Amor de mis entrañas, viva muerte, en vano espero tu palabra escrita y pienso, con la flor que se marchita, que si vivo sin mí quiero perderte. El aire es inmortal. La piedra inerte ni conoce la sombra ni la evita. Corazón interior no necesita la miel helada que la luna vierte. Pero yo te sufrí. Rasgué mis venas, tigre y paloma, sobre tu cintura en duelo de mordiscos y azucenas. Llena pues de palabras mi locura o déjame vivir en mi serena noche del alma para siempre oscura.

I have perfected the smile that says I’m fine, even though most of the time, I feel far from it.

You men notice so little, Pemberton. Physical strength is your gender's sole advantage.

Why couldn't Lady Justice just wear jeans and a T-shirt?' I complain. 'I mean, if she had a choice.' 'Good question,' says Winona. 'Because,' says Serena, swiping on the lipstick in two expert strokes. She grabs my arm and shepherds me over to the full-length mirror. 'Maybe she liked the way she looked in a dress.

Justin turned to give her one of his cool, unsmiling looks. Butterflies fluttered in her throat. She'd be very careful, Serena decided, as if she were walking through a minefield. "What are you thinking?" "About bombs," she answered blandly, "deadly camoflaged bombs." She gave him a quick,innocent grin. "Are we going to eat soon? I'm starving.

(...) él había pensado más que otros hombres, poseía en asuntos del espíritu aquella serena objetividad, aquella segura reflexividad y sabiduría que sólo tienen las personas verdaderamente espirituales, a las que falta toda ambición y nunca desean brillas, ni convencer a los demás, ni siquiera tener razón.

Our whole soul meets in heaven and the depth of the connection is imprinted on one another forever.

Well, well, my dear. Are we so brokenhearted as that? Is the loss of that terrible prince really worth your life?

We had some good times at school. I didn't know how good those times was till I left, but I guess that's the way of it

Practically every princess in peril has been saved by Love's First Kiss! For goodness' sake, between witches and fairies, can't we think of something more original? I'm weary of this. Why must a young girl need a man to save her? Why can't a princess fight for her own life, break her own curse? Why must it always be a prince? By Hades, I want to kill Prince Phillip on principle, just so we don't have yet one more prince kissing some helpless sleeping girl, making her feel like she has to marry him out of gratitude.

You have to stop looking at me like that.” He sounds amused, “or else I will have to take you up to my suite right now, and have you for lunch” I sigh at the image, “Why don't you?” I whisper. It’s exactly what I want.

Estava eu a dizer ao António que o cão não passa este inverno - declarou meu pai - para ele era uma sorte se morresse. - Não morre! - disse eu, aflito. Mas Tomás aproximara-se também: Que é que tu esperas do cão? Viveu, tem de morrer. Não havia ali, porém, uma acusação. Havia só o reconhecimento de uma evidência serena. Mas justamente para mim o que era evidente não era a morte, era a vida. Como podia o cão morrer? Como podia morrer a sua pessoa?

The old queen had failed them so miserably... She was such a bitter disappointment. But Ursula was different. There was no one to distract her, no one for her to love. She was alone in the world, alone in her grief, and alone with her pain. No, she wouldn't disappoint them. Unlike the old queen, Ursula would be able to fill her heart with hate.

And here is where I’m humbled. I’m humbled by my feebleness in helping this person. Humbled that I had the arrogance to believe I’d seen and heard it all. You can never see and hear it all because, for all their sordid similarities, each story in the Downtown Eastside unfolded in the particular existence of a unique human being. Each one needs to be heard, witnessed, and acknowledged anew, every time it’s told. And I’m especially humbled because I dared to imagine that Serena was less than the complex and luminous person she is. Who am I to judge her for being driven to the belief that only through drugs will she find respite from her torments? Spiritual teachings of all traditions enjoin us to see the divine in each other. Namaste, the Sanskrit holy greeting, means, “The divine in me salutes the divine in you.” The divine? It’s so hard for us even to see the human. What have I to offer this young Native woman whose three decades of life bear the compressed torment of generations? An antidepressant capsule every morning, to be dispensed with her methadone, and half an hour of my time once or twice a month.

Lissa's hotel suite had a expansive living room and work area, with an adjacent bedroom accessible through frosted-glass French doors. Serena nodded towards them."How about I just go in there?" A smart idea. Provided privacy but kept her close by. Then, Serena realised her implications, and she blushed. " I mean...unless you guys want to go in there and I'll-" "No," exclaimed Lissa, growing more and more embarrassed. "This is fine. We'll stay in here. We're just talking.

Magic Mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?

My apartment's only about a block away." "Isn't that handy." "Fate," he countered as he took a seat on the sofa and made himself at home. "Fantasic, isn't it?" "One day very soon, I'm going to tell you what you can do with that fate of yours.

. “It’s time, bro.” “No.” “Wraith, Shade is about to collapse.” Wraith glanced over at his brother, who was trembling so hard his teeth were chattering. His dermoire’s glow had faded and began to flicker. “You’ve got to let her go.” A sob welled up in Wraith’s throat. The moment Shade let go of Serena, she’d die. And if the turning didn’t take… I’ll lose her forever. Eidolon gave Wraith’s shoulder a little squeeze. Oh, Gods… Wraith closed his eyes and nodded. Instantly, Shade’s power cut off, and Serena’s chest stopped moving. Her heart thumped once. Twice. And beat no more. The only sound in the room after that was the sound of Wraith’s scream.

Uhm, what floor do you want?" That was polite, right? Adam snorted but Serena smiled, a wide grin on her face. "I think it's the fifteenth floor. But you're the one who works here, so you might know better than me." God, he was such a dumbass. He was so much better when he was just killing something.

So many books to read and worlds to escape into, so much history to learn. No matter what was happening, no matter how distressing it was, all she had to do was go to the library and it would all be well in her world

We stared at each other for several moments, neither of us speaking or moving, and then I was in front of her, pulling her to my chest, breathing in her scent as I went down on my knees, bringing her with me. Her arms went around me and she held on just as tightly as I held her. It was then when I realized I was still in my true form. She was light against my darkness. Serena hadn’t backed away or hesitated. She accepted me, all of me. She always had. I slipped into my human form, cradling her against me. The words, they came out easier than I ever thought they would. “I love you.

Only one thing comforted him: he had finally learned what it was to love. And the feeling was deeper and more meaningful than anything he’d felt before. He felt like he was dying. To die, one must have first been alive. And the Beast could finally say that by finding love, he had lived.

She’d never known fear had a taste, but it did.

I don’t even have a choice. Rachel thought how that was pretty much true of everything now, that you got one choice at the beginning but if you didn’t choose right, and she hadn’t, things got narrow real quick. Like trying to wade a river, she thought. You take a wrong step and set your foot on a wobbly rock or in a drop-off and you’re swept away, and all you can do then is try to survive. (83)

Again Serena’s frustrations, her disappointments, exist within a system you understand not to try to understand in any fair-minded way because to do so is to understand the erasure of the self as systemic, as ordinary. For Serena, the daily diminishment is a low flame, a constant drip. Every look, every comment, every bad call blossoms out of history, through her, onto you. To understand is to see Serena as hemmed in as any other black body thrown against our American background. “Aren’t you the one that screwed me over last time here?” she asks umpire Asderaki. “Yeah, you are. Don’t look at me. Really, don’t even look at me. Don’t look my way. Don’t look my way,” she repeats, because it is that simple.

[...] They taught us to never ever underestimate the power of chocolate on a female." "Is that so?" "If someone had waved a Hershey bar in front of Bonnie at the right time of the month, she'd have given up Clyde in a heartbeat.

I barely touched her—” “You touched her period. She’s mine to touch,” I snarled, my temper snapping off its leash at his paltry excuse. “You don’t lay a fucking finger on her, or I’ll consider this my barely touching you, and the next time, I’ll blow your fucking head off. Do you understand me?

That's Collin."She panicked."He can't see you!" Don't tell me you're afraid of your own brother?"Staton seemed to think that was funny.She hated the smirk that crept over his face. She shoved him."You want Collin to kill you?Hide." That made him laugh louder."Kill me?" Stop it,"she warned him,or he'll hear you." You think I should be afraid of your brother?I'm immortal." Collin's heavy steps filled the downstairs hallway.Her heart raced.Why was life so complicated?

Hey,man,got a problem?" "Veronica left me." Ivan crossed one leg over the other and was obviously jiggling his foot. "Oh,yeah? For some other guy, huh?" "No." "How come?" Macintosh never altered positions, and the very absence of action made the point. "Because I was selfish, rude, arrogant,dishonest, stupid and generally nasty." Ivan considered the toe of his boot. "Is that all?" "Yeah." "Women," Ivan said with a shrug. "Never satisfied." Gennie read the strip twice, then looked up helplessly. Without a word,Serena took the paper from her hand and read it herself. She chuckled once, then set it back down. "Want me to help you pack?

Don't imagine it would be the usual kind of marriage." He seemed to withdraw even more. "It needn't even be consummated. Any woman I liked we'll enough to marry doesn't deserve to be saddled to me. If we marry, it will be a quiet wedding by special license in a back room. At the end, we'll go our separate ways--you, to your farm, and me..." He looked around the small room at the messy piles of paper. "I'm not offering to make a life with you. I'm merely giving you the chance to make your child legitimate. Nothing more." He watched her, his eyes hooded and wary. And deep inside... She had no notion as to what to say. She let out a long breath. "Oh, you are romantic.

Here is what I have come to believe: in the end, religion has done more harm than good. For one thing, there’s war, ethnic cleansing, genital mutilation, abused altar boys, the systematic oppression of women—the foundational text of Christianity locates women as the source of all evil, do not forget this when interacting with the faithful—as well as anyone who doesn’t fit into its narrow moral straitjacket. Hierarchy breeds corruption. Patriarchy cultivates debasement. Believing in something—anything—so blindly is corrosive. You follow a recipe instead of inventing your own world. There are certain corners you can’t see into. My mother used to say that raising your son or daughter to believe in God is child abuse. I have repeated this often, to shocked looks, even from my secular friends. I’m sorry: I believe it. Religious belief may be a pleasant distortion, a comfort, for a while, but too much, unexamined, for too long and it eats away at your body, turns you stupid, kills you. Serena was right: the effect is not dissimilar to alcohol.

I'll walk you back,"he said with such apparently boundless amiability that Diana wanted to deck him. "That isn't necessary," she began as her hand was clasped by his. "I suppose I could walk ten paces behind or ten paces in front." As she let out a frustrated breath, Caine grinned down at her. "You're not angry because we exchanged a friendly kiss? After all, we're family." "There was nothing friendly or familial about it," Diana muttered. "No," he lifted her hand to his lips, then lightly nipped at her knuckle. "Maybe we should try again.

You're the whole focus of my world," he murmured. "After you left, I went crazy.I flew down to New Orleans, and-" "You did?" Stunned,she drew back to look at him. "You went after me?" "With various purposes in mind," he muttered. "First,I was going to strangle you,then I was going to crawl, then I was going to just drag you back and lock you upstairs." Smiling,she rested her head on his chest. "And now?" "Now." He kissed her hair. "We compromise. I'll let you live." "Good start." With a sigh,she closed her eyes. "I want to watch the sea in winter." He tilted her face to his. "We will." "There is something else..." "Before or after I make love to you?" Laughing,she pulled away from him. "It better be before.Since you haven't mentioned marriage yet,it falls to me." "Gennie-" "No,this is one time we'll do it all my way." She draw out the coin Serena had given her before she'd lef the Comanche. "And,in a way,it's a kind of compromise.Heads,we get married. Tails we don't." Grant grabbed her wrist before she could toss. "You're not going to play games with something like that, Genvieve, unless that's a two-headed coin." She smiled. "It certainly is." Surprise came first,then his grin. "Toss it.I like the odds.

«Io non mi sposo, se mi dici che mi ami e vuoi stare con me» azzardai, con il respiro strozzato in gola e le mani gelide per la tensione. Lui si volse verso di me. «Qui non si tratta di me, Serena» iniziò lui, ed ebbi un brivido di paura: non mi chiamava mai con il mio nome completo. «Non si tratta di Christian o di quello che provo per te. Se ti dicessi che ti amo e tu lo lasciassi e poi tra noi non funzionasse? La colpa sarebbe mia che ti ho portato via da lui.» «Non capisco» tentai di stimolarlo a spiegarsi meglio. «Tu devi lasciarlo perché vuoi farlo, non perché ci sono io di mezzo.» Il silenzio si fece pesante e denso. «Tu vuoi un figlio e vuoi sposarti, io questo non posso farlo» aggiunse lui dopo, distogliendo lo sguardo dal mio che si stava riempiendo di lacrime. «Ho paura di restare sola» bisbigliai. «Tutti abbiamo paura di restare soli, ma non si sposano solo per quel timore.» Pensai che avevo avuto ragione. Nico non sarebbe mai stato mio marito e forse non avremmo avuto dei bei bimbi cicciotti che correvano per casa, ero disposta a rinunciare a quello per lui? «Io sono innamorata di te, anche se non volevo accadesse. Ma tu cosa provi davvero per me?» Nico tornò a fissarmi. Era strano, sembrava assente e lontano, freddo come il ghiaccio e pericoloso come la punta di un coltello, e con quello sguardo mi colpì al cuore, dritto, affondando la lama sino all’impugnatura. «Sei importante per me». Tutto qui? Pensai subito. Solo quello, io ero importante, come poteva esserlo un cane o un animale domestico. Con le lacrime agli occhi guardai le fiamme spietate nei suoi occhi, fiamme che mi stavano divorando l’anima e tutti i sentimenti che avevo dentro. «Anche se provassi qualcosa per te, non te lo direi mai. Io sono così e sarò sempre così» aggiunse lui, poco dopo, scostandosi dal mio contatto, non solo da quello visivo. «Se devi piangere vai a farlo da un’altra parte, per favore» commentò lui, la voce fredda, priva di inflessioni che mi fece così male da farmi sentire i polmoni collassare. Tutto lì. Niente Addio, Serena, niente Chiamami quando starai meglio, niente Scusami, sono un cretino. Mi asciugai le lacrime dal viso, gli girai intorno, raccogliendo i miei vestiti che infilai velocemente e uscii dalla porta come ero entrata: sola.