Once desire was turned on, combustion gave it a life of its own. Once it was turned on it became a raging wildfire, uncontrollable and uncontainable, the type of conflagration that had to be allowed to burn itself out. — Eric Jerome Dickey Copy Share Image
“We'd had sex like we were whores to each other, and when it was done, we each moved to our side of the bed,… — Eric Jerome Dickey Copy Share Image
love is a mental illness, an obsessive-compulsive disorder romanticized! — Eric Jerome Dickey Copy Share Image
“. . . Your hair--it's kind of wavy. Indian in your blood, or are you a hypocrite and texturize your hair?" He hesitated, appeared… — Eric Jerome Dickey Copy Share Image
“Rainwater diluted redness, created a pink death, his matter mixing through mud and grass.” — Eric Jerome Dickey Copy Share Image
“. . . I had on . . . black jeggings under a fitted, sleeveless, flowered dress, so he could see my true shape… — Eric Jerome Dickey Copy Share Image
“We disconnected. And I wondered if we had ever truly connected.” — Eric Jerome Dickey Copy Share Image
For a lot of people, becoming an author is a change in occupation... they are coming from something that totally has nothing to do… — Eric Jerome Dickey Copy Share Image
We see what we want to see. We idealize each other with our own fantasies. — Eric Jerome Dickey Copy Share Image
It’s scary telling someone you care about, someone you love who you really are. — Eric Jerome Dickey Copy Share Image
“Ownership, even in love, is an illusion. No woman owned any man and no man owned any woman.” — Eric Jerome Dickey Copy Share Image
hate isn't healthy, it damages the hater more than the one who's hated! — Eric Jerome Dickey Copy Share Image
