181 Quotes & Sayings By Nenia Campbell

Fairytales by nature only talk about the victors. The survivors. Nobody speaks about what happens to those who failed, except in the abstract: as cautionary tales to guide others onto the path to success. How many brave knights fell to the dragon before he was slayed by the noble prince? How many children burned to a crisp and eaten before the wicked witch received her due? These stories are lost, but the lesson behind them is not: it is not enough to be merely pure and good. . Nenia Campbell

What do you want to do with your life, then?” is often the question I'm asked. To be honest, I don't know. I really don't. Mainly because I don't see myself living long enough for that to make much of a difference. Nenia Campbell

Mamá had always made it clear she believed girls who got raped deserved it. I hadn't done any of the things she said “bad” girls did, though. I didn't parade myself around in sluttish clothes and make untoward advances. But Mamá had been wrong about everything else so far, so maybe she'd been wrong about that, too. Maybe it didn't matter whether you were bad or good, prudish or wanton: maybe just being female was enough, for some men. Maybe, like so much else, it was only about control. But then why do I feel so guilty?. Nenia Campbell

Be my sonata, my cantata, my lovesing me something sweetbut not too sweet(or i may grow deaf to our harmonyas we decrescendo into silence) Nenia Campbell

For what is magic, but passion freed from reason? Nenia Campbell

She seemed like the kind of woman who would fall in love with the sky. Nenia Campbell

A geas was a contract with the goddess of Fate. Sometimes one was born indentured, other times it was bestowed upon one as a curse. Because if one did not fulfill the terms of one's geas, one died. It was old magic, the magic of the gods, spoken in the tongues of those who controlled the dragons–and it was supposed to be extinct. Nenia Campbell

He kissed her, and the magic that had been building up steadily around them exploded, raining down in arcs of silver fire that made her half-remember a prophecy from her d Nenia Campbell

Heritage was everything: it was a golden skeleton key, gleaming with power, able to get the wielder through any number of locked doors; it was the christening of the marriage bed with virgin blood on snow-white sheets; it was the benediction of a pristine pedigree, refined through ages of selective breeding and the occasional mercy culling. It was life, and death, and all that spanned between. It was his birthright. Nenia Campbell

Subjugation requires vigilance; if you relax your brutality even for a moment, the people you're oppressing will revolt at the first sign of weakness. That's why dictatorial regimes are always a slippery slope of cruelty doomed to end in failure. Nenia Campbell

I am the rightful ruler of this world And now that I, too, have awakened, like my dragons, I have come to take back what is mine. Nenia Campbell

Maybe that was why the French called orgasms “las petites morts”: because the things that bring us passion tend to slip past our defenses, to creep insidiously into every facet of our consciousnesses and kill us as ruthlessly, and efficiently, as any drug. Nenia Campbell

Nothing is as deadly as the love of a powerful man. Nenia Campbell

But fairytales were, at best, dirty mirrors whose warped and pitted surfaces reflected a highly distorted view of the truth, quite different from reality. Nenia Campbell

She had come into the garden expecting summer roses and had instead been caught in a bank of twisted, thorny, frostbitten vines. Nenia Campbell

Psychological imprisonment was no less uncomfortable than its physical counterpart. In some ways, it was even worse; it provided the illusion of physical freedom, but garnered none of the benefits of it. Nenia Campbell

We spend much of our lives going about completely blind to reality, and yet we still have the gall to act victimized when it invariably catches up to us. Nenia Campbell

For a moment, the cardboard sets come crashing down to reveal that squalling monster, reality, locked up in the confines of its man-made cage. It is a fearsome thing, beautiful, inherent only to itself. Faced with such naked, existential truths, I understand why humans worship flesh-eating monsters and bloodthirsty gods. But only for a moment. Nenia Campbell

The villains were always ugly in books and movies. Necessarily so, it seemed. Because if they were attractive–if their looks matched their charm and their cunning–they wouldn't only be dang Nenia Campbell

Fuck your manners."" You don't have to settle for just my manners. Nenia Campbell

It's like an itch, isn't it? You can feel it in your throat. You want to scream for me. Nenia Campbell

It's true what they say, you know. First fuck. First love. First kill. You never forget your first. Nenia Campbell

Fuck, Christina.”“Yes, fuck Christina. I think she'd like that. Nenia Campbell

You will not mock me–and you will let me finish. I have owned and lost a kingdom, and I have battled death. I have been through all that, and I will not chase after you like some lovesick poet spouting verse. If you wish to call me yours, then you will have to act as if you are mine. On the front of surrender, there is no middle ground. Nenia Campbell

My sub doesn't pay for me, ” he says, pulling me to my feet. “That just doesn't happen.”“ But we ordered so much, ” I say helpl Nenia Campbell

A woman isn't a whore for wanting pleasure. If it were unnatural, we would not be born with such drives. Nenia Campbell

I participate in BDSM, but I wasn't abused as a child. I don't hate women, or particularly enjoy hurting women. Sometimes I make them feel pain, but it's consensual, it serves a purpose–to get them off–and they can indicate that they wish me to stop at any time. I do like the power I get from total submission, and the trust that my partner puts in me to give me everything, from her mind to her body, while expecting nothing in return–except the understanding that I won't violate that trust. . Nenia Campbell

In my experience, the romance novels written about BDSM have about as much in common with actual BDSM relationships as a child playing with a jump rope. Nenia Campbell

Such a dark green, his eyes. They reminded her of the forest, of all the dangers lying dormant behind that verdant cloak of leaves. Nenia Campbell

They said the shape-shifters fucked with the enthusiasm of animals–if they didn't devour you with the enthusiasm of one first. Nenia Campbell

A quick and brutal fuck from behind usually served as an effective reminder of where you stood in the pack hierarchy. Nenia Campbell

Why do women always feel they have to settle for less? Nenia Campbell

I didn't understand what it was about men–not all men, but a good portion of them–that turned a good, solid “NO” into an “I'm just playing coy; try harder. Nenia Campbell

You are the playground of which I have free reign. Nenia Campbell

I am waltzing with death, flirting with him, but he stands there smiling and saying nothing because he does not need to woo or be wooed: he knows he gets us all in the end. Nenia Campbell

Isn't that just typical. You're either asking for it, or having it forced upon you without your consent. Who decided women always have to be passive in sex? Nenia Campbell

You don't find the concept of illicit love at all engaging?”“ The concept, maybe. But in literature? That's like ordering a glass of tap water at a bar. Nenia Campbell

I can't believe it. He is sporting a bona fide erection in the middle of class. All because of me. In history you learn about entire kingdoms crumbling into chaos because of a woman–or, in some cases, multiple women. I smile at Professor Delacroix, putting an extra bit of swing into my hips as I sashay out the door. I'm beginning to see just how easy it is to bring a man to his knees with a few flashes of bare skin, and the whispered promise of hot, sweaty sex. Nenia Campbell

In some ways blowjobs are better than sex because when you have a mouthful of cock you can't make snide comments. Nenia Campbell

You wanted to see me, Professor? Nenia Campbell

You think I'm gorgeous?”“ When I look at you, all I can think about are the the different ways I'd like to fuck you.”“ So that's a yes then?” she said shyly.“ No, darlin. It's an I-hope-you-weren't-planning-on-sleeping-alone-tonight. Nenia Campbell

I can take care of myself, ” I said hotly.“ Darlin, you don't even know how to pleasure yourself. Nenia Campbell

Solus walked over to the young brown-haired man and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, ignoring the look of panic he received in return. "You can call me Solus." His golden eyes trailed meaningfully down the mortal's body before he added, softly, "I've been told it's easier to scream. Nenia Campbell

Hatred is about possession. It is all-consuming, cruel, and vainglorious. When love is allowed to fester, it becomes twisted and corrupt; it settles deep in the heart...and metastasizes, sending its dark roots through the body to raze all that stands in its way. Love is chaste and pure. Love is banal.... No, hatred has infinitely more possibilities. Nenia Campbell

Did you think I'd only want you once? Oh, my, you are more naïve than I thought. Why would I go through so much trouble for a mere tryst? Does a man ride a stallion but one time before condemning it to the abattoir? Nenia Campbell

I want to be your last thought at night, and your first taste at dawn. Nenia Campbell

Conquest was not satisfying if it began with a surrender. Nenia Campbell

Death is one lover who cannot be spurned. Nenia Campbell

If a woman defined herself solely by the man she was with–and vice versa–the world would be a very shallow and insipid place, indeed. Nenia Campbell

Maybe it frightened them, to admit that a woman could be master of her fate. Nenia Campbell

Valys also didn't think I was good enough for him. He made that clear every time he acted like a martyr forced to settle. But what he didn't understand was that if he thought I might not be good enough for him, he definitely wasn't good enough for me. I was well aware of my flaws, but I knew my merits, too; I shouldn't have to be anyone's second-best. Least of all, his. Nenia Campbell

Girls can fight with swords, too. Sometimes, even better than men can. They just have to want it badly enough that they're willing to work harder at it. Nenia Campbell

Mámá was fond of saying that nothing tastes as good as skinny feels–an aphorism I was pretty sure she'd cribbed from the thinspiration sites she subscribed to online–but I believed that anyone who said such things had never tasted chili-cheese fries with melted cheddar, fresh ground beef, and Tapatio sauce. Nenia Campbell

I'd seen entire constellations of possibility I'd never previously been aware of, so blinded had I been by the bright, glaring stars of expectation. Freedom, I was beginning to think, had less to do with where you were, and was more about who you were trying to be. Nenia Campbell

College had once been my greatest aspiration; it stood for everything my mother did not–intellectualism, feminism, freedom. But being kidnapped had given me plenty of time to think, and somewhere between all that fear and dread, I'd realized that was the wrong reason to go to college. That the potential for those things had been inside of me all along, only I'd never realized because I hadn't believed myself strong enough to break free without an intermediary. Nenia Campbell

People rarely ventured outside the realm of their own hurts. They believed their own suffering was obvious to all, but might as well have been wearing blinders for all that they noticed anyone else's. Nenia Campbell

At first you might wonder what you did to deserve such treatment. Nothing, probably, so that doesn't matter. What matters is that, eventually, the abuse becomes the status quo. It's no longer about the whats and whys (“what did I do?” “why are they doing this?”) but the whens and hows (“when are they going to do it?” “how are they going to get me?”). Persecution becomes inevitable, inescapable. And once you get into the victim mindset, you're fucked. The bullies don't even need to hurt you now; your poor, warped, pathetic brain is doing half the work for them. . Nenia Campbell

Since when did psychiatry become one big, fat Myspace survey? Nenia Campbell

I was supposed to be powerless, and as a result they failed to see that I possessed claws. Nenia Campbell

So you thought you could shit and eat at the same time. How disgustingly convenient. Nenia Campbell

If the whole world seems like it's against you, it helps to know that you've still got home. A safe place. It just takes one person–a teacher, a friend, a parent. If I didn't have you and Dad, if you hadn't made it so clear you loved me as much as you did, or if you'd said, 'yeah, why don't you do it, and put yourself out of our misery, just shut up, ' I would have killed myself. I really would have. I spent most of those days wishing I were dead anyway, and what always stopped me was the fact that doing so would destroy the lives of the only people who ever cared about me. Nenia Campbell

Maybe in a way all living things are like flickering flames in a precarious night, always on the verge of being extinguished. Whether we kindle slowly but steadily, or go out in a brilliant burst of light and color, is our choice. Perhaps the most important choice we'll ever have. Nenia Campbell

Now she knew living was just a brief hiatus, a blip really, in the infinite line of nothingness that composed that shadowy realm of the unknown. It could stop at any time. Nenia Campbell

It wasn't that she was sad–sadness had very little to do with it, really, considering that most of the time, she felt close to nothing at all. Feeling required nerves, connections, sensory input. The only thing she felt was numb. And tired. Yes, she very frequently felt tired. Nenia Campbell

I finally understood what could drive kids to show up with guns and shoot up their schools. Nenia Campbell

Being depressed and suicidal doesn't mean wanting to kill yourself every moment of every day. It may be a fixed obsession, but sometimes it gets relegated to the back of your head. Rather, it means the world takes on the very cut and dry, black and white, unilateral aspect of a flowchart. Nenia Campbell

Once upon a time, there was a naïve and innocent girl who thought she could tame the beast and live happily ever after. But the beast did not want to be tamed, for he was a beast and beasts care not for such things, and the girl died along with her dreams. From childhood's grave sprang a young woman, jaded before her years, who knew that beasts could wear the skins of men, and that evil could exist in sunlight, as well as darkness. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose. . Nenia Campbell

Words were the bane of her existence. She drowned in them when all she wanted was silence, only to have them recede when one desperately-sought phrase would be the key to her salvation. Most things were like that: excess in times of abundance, and shortages in times of dearth. Life, she realized, was an unbalanced scale, and would never weigh in one's favor, struggle as one might. Nenia Campbell

Knowing and doing are two separate things, and don't always sync up in life. Nenia Campbell

When we mated I felt your heart stop beating and it was as if the world had stopped turning. It was only while surrounded by death that I realized I had never felt more alive. Nenia Campbell

The Lord teaches forgiveness, but some things are unforgivable. Nenia Campbell

Power is a fickle mistress, easy to seduce, but even easier to lose. That's how it works. One moment she is your closest confidant, whispering the secrets of the universe into your ear; the next, she is your vilest oppressor–and once her ears close to your plights you are well and truly screwed. Nenia Campbell

Nobody should have to choose between a cold heart and a dead heart. Nenia Campbell

There's a saying that you can't put a price on a human life, but that saying is a lie because we have. We have, and it's so much lower than you would think. Yes, human life has its price like anything else, and will continue to do so for as long as it doubles as a commodity. Nenia Campbell

Everyone needs to escape sometimes, and retreating into somebody else's fantasy isn't nearly as satisfying as slipping into your own. Nenia Campbell

Books make the best ersatz friendships. Nenia Campbell

Men who thought of themselves as gods fell the farthest, and the hardest. Nenia Campbell

In a fight between a shifter and a witch, the shifter would often win–but only if they could keep the witch from speaking, usually by severing the throat or tearing out the tongue. If the witch was powerful enough, and quick enough, physical size didn't matter. Catherine had heard of the horrible ways the witches could kill their victims. Cooking them alive from the inside out, restricting oxygen flow through the nasal and oral passages by creating a vacuum, drowning them with vapor pulled from the very air. It made fights between shifters look almost humane by comparison. Nenia Campbell

Fire and water, logic and reason–those footholds of reality that you mortals hold so near and dear become like so much mist on the plains of the dreamscape. Nenia Campbell

Come closer, my dears, let me give you a warning, Of the fate that befalls those who stay out past morning, In the darkest hours before the dawn, When witches roam and demons spawn, And children die with spirit gone, Magicked away in the gloaming. Nenia Campbell

...there was a difference between killing for nourishment and killing for curiosity or sport. Nenia Campbell

You think you're superior to the others, don't you? We'll you're not. In fact you're worse for mistaking basic human decency for moral superiority. Nenia Campbell

I bask in that sympathy because it's nice to have somebody who cares, even if it's the wrong person for the wrong reasons. Nenia Campbell

Her world fragmented into dozens of sharp, cutting shards, shedding the salty blood and saltier tears that ringed the bitter cocktail of her despair. She was caterpillar and butterfly, both, caught in a cocoon of raw nerves and open sores; she was insanity, wrapped up in the thin, transient wrappings of a temporary lucidity; and she was afraid, because an innate desire lay in the bottom reaches of her psyche for the very poison that was killing her. Nenia Campbell