And Mrs. Prentice says that, like her husband, I’m a burned out old shell of a man who cannot even remember what it’s like to love a woman the way her son loves my daughter. And strange as it seems, that’s the first statement made to me all day with which I am prepared to take issue. Because I think you’re wrong. You’re as wrong as you can be.
The heart is not like a box that gets filled up; it expands in size the more you love. I’m different from you. This doesn’t make me love you any less. It actually makes me love you more.
Scream and Halloween Parallels
when you bottom for the first time after being a top all your life
American Horror Story: Lung Cancer