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— Sylvia Day"You forget who submits, Eva,” he said gruffly. “I’ve given up control for you. I’ve bent and adjusted for you. I’ll do anything to keep you and make you happy. But I can’t be tamed or topped. Don’t mistake indulgence for weakness."
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As little flowers, which the chill of night has bent and huddled, when the white sun strikes, grow straight and open fully on their stems, so did I, too, with my exhausted force.
— Dante Alighieri
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Truth was a tool. It should never simply be said. No, it had to be bent, twisted, colored, until it became a weapon.
— Nalini Singh
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