Thomm Quackenbush

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She was an exotic flower amongst the snowdrifts, out of place, a Technicolor misfit in a monochrome Christmas movie

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His kisses were so hungry and male, which isn't bad. Every kiss said he could never have enough, but he wasn't going to stop trying. They were so hormonal. I wanted his sugar roughness. Girl's kisses are deliberate and polished. When she kisses me - when I kiss her - she doesn't want me. She has me and knows it

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There might have been prettier women in the room but, when she turned those babies on, fluttered her eyelashes, I was hers. It had taken me nearly fifteen years to extinguish their light. Now, when she looks at me, it's a vacuum. I had drained so much from her over the course of our marriage that every glance rips a little bit of my soul away to fill the void I had whittled within her

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All this electromagnetic pollution in the air from the Internet and cell phones, it cuts you off from God

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A lonely person on a college campus is never more than a few minutes and a bad decision from company