Our life-style contains more Thanatos than Eros, for egotism, exploitation, deception, obsession and addiction have more place in us than eroticism, joy, generosity and spontaneity.
Don’t start on that. When I offered you her gifts, you told me to shove them straight up my back orifice. (Eros)
Nico's voice was like broken glass. "I- I wasn't in love with Annabeth." "You were jealous of her," Jason said. "That's why you didn't want to be around her. Especially why you don't want to be around... him. It makes total sense.
Pleasure and pain at once register upon the lover, inasmuch as the desirability of the love object derives, in part, from its lack. To whom is it lacking? To the lover. If we follow the trajectory of eros we consistently find it tracing out this same route: it moves out from the lover toward the beloved, then ricochets back to the lover himself and the hole in him, unnoticed before. Who is the subject of most love poems? Not the beloved. It is that hole.
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I listen to everything from, you know, Buddha Bar groove music to international music, Italian music, like Eros. I like very sexy, funky music like Maxwell, Angie Stone, R&B...In my CD player, I've probably got Maxwell, Beyonce, Enrique Iglesias, and kid music...maybe some AC/DC. I mean a little bit of everything. It depends on what I'm doing.
You want the bad news, or the really bad news? (Eros) Oh, let’s see…how about we make my day special, and start with the worst, then work our way up? (Julian)
This letter gives me a tongue; and were I not allowed to write, I should be dumb. [Lat., Praebet mihi littera linguam: Et, si non liceat scribere, mutus ero.]
May the strength of Ares and wisdom of Athena see you through. (Eros) And may Hades roast your hoary soul. (Julian)
At home, besides being Peter or Jane, we also bear a general character; husband or wife, brother or sister, chief, colleague or subordinate. Not among Friends. It is an affair of disentangled, or stripped, minds. Eros will have naked bodies; Friendship naked personalities.
Please tell me your master isn't Aeolus." "That airhead?" Favonius snorted. "No, of course not." "He means Eros." Nico's voice turned edgy. "Cupid, in Latin." Favonius smiled. "Very good, Nico di Angelo. I'm glad to see you again, by the way. It's been a long time.
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Why did you hit him? (Grace) Because it gave me a great deal of pleasure. (Julian) Nice. You haven’t seen me in what, two thousand years? So, instead of a friendly, brotherly hug, I get slugged. (Eros)
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