3
" And here, finally here in this place, in these circumstances, I will really have to kill him. And Snow will win. Hot, bitter hatred courses through me. Snow has won too much already today. It's a long shot, it's suicide maybe, but I do the only thing I can think of. I lean in and kiss Peeta full on the mouth. His whole body starts shuddering, but I keep my lips pressed to his until I have to come up for air. My hands slide up his wrists to clasp his. " Don't let him take you from me." Peeta's panting hard as he fights the nightmares raging in his head. " No. I don't want to..." I clench his hands to the point of pain. " Stay with me." His pupils contract to pinpoints, dilate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. " Always," he murmurs. "
9
" Where is your false, your treacherous, and cursed wife?" " She's gone forrard to the Police Office," returns Mr Bucket. " You'll see her there, my dear." " I would like to kiss her!" exclaims Mademoiselle Hortense, panting tigress-like. " You'd bite her, I suspect," says Mr Bucket." I would!" making her eyes very large. " I would love to tear her, limb from limb." " Bless you, darling," says Mr Bucket, with the greatest composure; " I'm fully prepared to hear that. Your sex have such a surprising animosity against one another, when you do differ. "
12
" The blue foam spread quickly, and had almost entirely enveloped the room, moving rapidly towards the last clear door, when suddenly the door burst open, and Simon, looking flushed, and panting heavily, stepped into the room.“Nooooooo!” shrieked Maven Ellie; a shocking sound out of the usually calm and cheerful magician. But it was too late.The foam, already covering most of the room, seemed to stiffen for a moment, before a molten red glow began to take over. The foam hissed, as though in anger, and at an alarmingly fast rate, it raced towards Simon, who had frozen obligingly, the moment Maven Ellie had screamed.A look of terror crept over his face at the sight of the crimson foam racing towards him. Desperately, he tried to move away, but the foam had already reached his feet, and he was stuck fast. Maven Thom, in a rather stunning display of athleticism for a man of his age, made a running leap for the small space that remained between Simon and the door, just barely clearing the approaching foam. The foam continued to climb up Simon’s legs and chest, covering his neck and face in seconds, until he was completely encased in the hardened foam. "
14
" We breathe too fast to be able to grasp things in themselves or to expose their fragility. Our panting postulates and distorts them, creates and disfigures them, and binds us to them. I bestir myself, therefore I emit a world as suspect as my speculation which justifies it; I espouse movement, which changes me into a generator of being, into an artisan of fictions, while my cosmogonic verve makes me forget that, led on by the whirlwind of acts, I am nothing but an acolyte of time, an agent of decrepit universes. (...)
If we would regain our freedom, we must shake off the burden of sensation, no longer react to the world by our senses, break our bonds. For all sensation is a bond, pleasure as much as pain, joy as much as misery. The only free mind is the one that, pure of all intimacy with beings or objects, plies its own vacuity. "
― Emil M. Cioran , The Temptation to Exist
18
" Battery Park resonates with lust as the sun approaches its zenith. A primal impulse takes hold of the young couples strolling the gravel walkways, the newlyweds who have paused to admire DeModica’s bronze bull, the truant teens laid out on the cool grass. Maybe because all flesh tantalizes in the early summer, in the right light, or because, at this time of year, there is more flesh exposed, midriffs, cleavage, inner thighs, the park is suddenly transformed into a dynamo of panting and groping. This desire is not the tender affection of evening, the wistful intimacy of the twilight’s last gleam. It is raw, concupiscent hunger. "
― Jacob M. Appel , The Biology of Luck
