Love Requires Context.

I See God Now As An Unimaginative Writer Of Popular Fictions, Someone Who Builds Stories Around Sadistic And Graceless Plots, Narratives That Exist Only To Express His Terror Of A Woman's Power To Choose Who And How To Love, To Redefine Love As She Sees Fit, Not As God Thinks It Ought To Be. The Author Is Unworthy Of His Own Characters.

I Mean, When The World Comes For Your Children, With The Knives Out, It's Your Job To Stand In The Way.

It Was Something... The Way A Person's Life Picked Up Speed, The Way A Life Was Like A Bullet Aimed At One Final Target, Impossible To Slow Or Turn Aside, And Like The Bullet, You Were Ignorant Of What You Were Going To Hit, Would Never Know Anything Except The Rush And The Impact.

If You Didn't Have Me To Rake You Over The Coals Now And Then, There Wouldn't Be Any Fire In Your Life At All.

I Hope If There Is Another World, We Will Not Be Judged Too Harshly For The Things We Did Wrong Here—that We Will At Least Be Forgiven For The Mistakes We Made Out Of Love.