Sana

“By the time you’re done with him, he’ll be begging for mercy. Who is he if he can’t control you? Is he even a man anymore? It will seem like a relief when you give him a hand, even if that hand is holding a blade. And when you take everything from him, you can say what these men say about us: He was asking for it. He was begging for it. He must have wanted it, since he didn’t fight back.”
― Monika Kim, The Eyes Are the Best Part

“Do you want to have kids?” I ask. “Sometimes,” he says. “When I’m feeling optimistic.” I bump sideways into him, the skin of our arms sticking slightly from the heat. “Does that happen often?” He looks down his shoulder at me with a slight smirk. “Not often, no.” “So the rest of the time,” I say, “when you’re not feeling optimistic, what do you think?” “The rest of the time …” Another long exhale, his eyes straight ahead as we go back to ambling down the block. “The rest of the time, I think, what if the polar ice caps keep melting? What if medical care keeps getting more expensive, and social security runs out, and housing prices keep rising while minimum wage doesn’t, and what if they resent me for bringing them into all of this? “What if they just hate me? Not because of the state of the world, but just because they hate me. Or what if they’re sick? What if they join a cult, and I can’t convince them to come home? What if they start a cult? What if they get into some heinous shit, and I can’t love them anymore—or worse, I keep loving them even though I can’t change anything? “What if there’s another world war? Or what if … what if everything else goes right, but at the end of my life, they’re sitting in hospice with me …” His voice thickens uncharacteristically, wavering just the slightest bit. “And there are things they wish they could say to me, or hear from me, but I don’t remember who I am, let alone who they are. What if they have to care for me, for years, after I’ve stopped calling them by their nicknames or telling them I love them?”
― Emily Henry, Great Big Beautiful Life

“You want to know danger? Try living with a man who creates you just so he can eat your soul.”
― Sierra Greer, Annie Bot

“As later experiences would confirm, to deal with a man like that, a man like George, you have to pull the rug out from under him. Not all at once, of course; a small tug here, another one there. You don’t back down when he tries to wield his power. Instead, you trip him up by slipping him little lies. Correct him whenever you can. Confuse him. Make him feel foolish. Men like him hate being wrong, hate being embarrassed, hate not being in control. Men like him don’t know what to do when that happens, and they resort to childish displays of anger, temper tantrums, sulking. In spite of this, he won’t be able to do a single thing about it because in the end he’s the one who is weak. The only power he has is the power you are willing to give him, and you’ve given him nothing. Not a scrap.”
― Monika Kim, The Eyes Are the Best Part