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Paperback
First published September 12, 2007
"At least she (Thomas' mom) knows what she wants is dead. What I want just refuses to be with me. Maybe I should compare notes with her on what's worse, for I swear to God sometimes I think if you were dead this would hurt less.
"See yourself the way I see you. Feel the way my hands touch you, think about the way I look at you. I see all of you, Thomas. You think I don't, but I do. Hide it, don't hide it, I know all of it, feel all of it. You're mine. Just let go. Let go and see it. I always have."
"Oh, for Christ's sake. Nothing is going to make your boy straight, Elaine. I didn't drag him into anything. But you're absolutely right. This is a battle for his soul, and while you may think I'm Lucifer, you sure as hell aren't God. This isn't about you or me. It's about the gift that defines his soul more than you or I will ever hope to do. If he doesn't have that for himself, neither of us will have anything."
"And while we're on the whole God thing, would you like to know what an ignored
"You're what my art's all about, Marcus. We see something and think we know it, understand it, but really we're lucky if we ever understand any more than a small piece about anything. The infinite of the universe is in each one of us. You're grace, faith. Hopelessness, despair. Violence and anger. Beauty."
"Pain. You overwhelm me," he said quietly. "And every time I see you or think of you, I can't grab a brush fast enough. I thought I couldn't paint you, but it turns out I've been painting you all along, from the beginning, before I even knew you."
"That's when I got it. The rough canvas. God paints our bodies over that, over our heart and soul. It's the eyes that tell us what we're really seeing, what's underneath. So all I painted in the picture were greens. Patterns, random slashes, shapes over shapes, shadows, emotions, it's all there."
When I’ve come inside you, lain on you, felt you tremble, felt that silence between us that has everything…you don’t think God is there? If there is a God, I’ve felt It then, and I know you have too.
Sometimes when you lose everything, the last thing you want to do is remember. And telling is remembering.
Wheat colored grass, flowing, rippling like a lover’s muscles. Green flowing into the gold like interlocking fingers. Every part different, but all part of the whole. Birds spiraling and speaking in musical tongues, warbling, chirping, trebling the piercing shriek of a hawk. The occasional rasping calls of the crows, or the surprise of an owl’s hoot as the sun rose, giving warmth, a dying god’s gift, the promise of renewal as it moved inexorably toward the autumn cycle
SOMETIMES WHEN YOU LOSE EVERYTHING, THE LAST THING YOU WANT TO DO IS REMEMBER. AND TELLING IS REMEMBERING
He only knew at one time he’d been able to translate all athe raw emotion of life to a canvas. Despite how close that emotion cut to his own life, his soul had somehow found a safe haven from which to observe without becoming a paralyzed part of it
He had a bashful tendency to look away when he smiled, but the smile was sexy, black Irish
“I’ve never gotten in, so how the hell can I get out?” Thomas snarled. “You want me to be your family? You let family in. Knowing they’ll hurt you, you do it anyway, because that’s what love is. You let them in to hurt you, love you—”
“Leave you?”
“But what I’ve realized is that you’re the true problem. What you feel you deserve, the faith you have in us. The question isn’t do I belong in this world of yours, but do you want me to belong in it?”
“That’s when I decided not to be afraid of anything. Then you came and I remembered that true fear is knowing you have something you can’t bear losing.”
“You understand the darkness without ever having been in it. You see the world as it is, all its misery and pain, all the beauty that somehow rises above it, and you accept all of it. You accept me.”
"“Sometimes when you lose everything, the last thing you want to do is remember. And telling is remembering”
“Accepting what people are, what they can’t change and loving them with every part of yourself anyway. That’s what love is about. You take that away from him, you make him believe that kind of love doesn’t exist… It would be better for you to shoot him rather than destroy him inch by inch, year after year. If you do that, you’re not saving his soul, you’re killing it. If you’d look into his eyes for once, you’ll see it. How we love is our soul.” - Marcus^^^ One of my very fave scenes here.
“Marcus knew how to make it stop hurting, and yet was the source of all pain, good and bad. Thomas didn’t care. He wanted it all.”
“The art was the dot of darkness in Thomas’ life and the dot of light in Marcus’ that made them a part of each other, connected them.”
“I will take a lifetime of you, good, bad, terrible, to anything without you. I love you. And as much as you’re mine, I’m just as much yours.”
“But…who takes care of you?”
“YOU take care of me, pet. Just by breathing and existing, you take care of me in ways you can’t imagine.”
Thomas- "You’re a masterpiece, Marcus. You never imagine going to the Louvre and getting to take something home like that. Not a kid from a small rural town that doesn’t even register on cosmic radar."
Marcus- "What I have is surface. Grooming, good genetics, whatever. Whether you’ve rolled out of bed an hour ago without having had a shower for three days, or you’re wearing a designer suit, there is a deep perfect beauty to you that takes my breath away."
Marcus - "I don’t want any other man to fuck you. Ever. The idea of it makes me physically sick, and so furious I can’t...”He stopped, shook his head.
Thomas - ”...you’re the only man I want. Now and forever. The only man I’ll ever let inside me again.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake. Nothing is going to make you boy straight, Elaine. I didn’t drag him into anything. But you’re absolutely right. This is a battle for his soul, and while you may think I’m Lucifer, you sure as hell aren’t God.”The secondary characters are rich and vibrant. From the old farm couple, that explains the irony of Thomas situation. He is giving up Marcus to make his family happy, yet he is the only “family” Marcus has. Then there is Julie. She’s that special friend that we all need in life. She’s honest, supportive and tells it to you straight.
Julie- “ You fucking Dumbass. Why aren’t you going after him, hauling his butt back here? He’s the one for you, Marcus. He was it. You’ve got to get him back, okay? Because you’re only going to be half of you without him.”
“ I can imagine you and us a million ways here, Thomas. I will make my home where you are, because you are my home.”
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”One week when you'll try to get me back in your bed.”
“Oh, there won't be an y trying on that one, Thomas. We both know that's not what's in question.” Marcus' lips curved. Thomas felt his cock respond as if on a chain that Marcus could jerk to atteniton whenever he wished. “You'll be in my bed...”
”A true submissive wasn't forced to submit. He was simply shown the right room in his soul. Sometimes when he stepped into it, he wrapped his way around his Master's heart and tugged him in right after him.”
”You're a masterpiece, Marcus. You never imagine going to the Louvre and getting to take something home like that. Not a kid from a small rural town tat doesn't even register on cosmic radar. ”
”Thomas stood in the manacles, vibrating , overwhelmed with words he couldn't say. Didn't know if he knew how to say them, because they contained all the heartbreak of the world mixed with it's ephemeral joy. Waking to the aroma of breakfast when he was eight. Feeling the heat of the setting sun on his skin while falling asleep on Kate's back at ten. Turning and seeing Marcus for the very first time. Moments too powerful to be contained by the human heart and therefore having a peculiar way of making the soul hurt, as if there was something to mourn in the midst of the happiness. As if happiness itself couldn't exist without shadows to define it... ”
”Then give me your pain, Master. I can bear it as long as I know your lips will touch every mark when you're done, signing it as your work. ”