It [ballet] projects a fragile kind of strength and a certain inflexible precision.

They were kissing again, carefully at first, learning the shape and texture of each other's lips, testing the sharpness of the teeth behind them. It's too fast, said a panicky voice in his mind. And too dangerous. He'll drink your juices, taste your brain, crack your soul open like an egg!  Hell, I think I want him to do all that.

The events of the past cannot be fully understood when you are the only element of the past actively engaged in reliving it.

Written By Augusten Burroughs

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