“Is that why you’re here? To talk about that? Sweet Jesus . . . you men. It’s never your fault, is it? When are you going to admit that it isn’t ‘hockey’ that raises these boys, it’s YOU LOT? In every time and every place, I’ve come across men who blame their own stupidity on crap they themselves have invented. ‘Religion causes wars,’ ‘guns kill people,’ it’s all the same old bullshit!”
“I didn’t mea . . . ,” Sune tries, but has to duck when she tries to slap him again.
“Keep your trap shut when I’m talking! Fucking men! YOU’RE the problem! Religion doesn’t fight, guns don’t kill, and you need to be very fucking clear that hockey has never raped anyone! But do you know who do? Fight and kill and rape?”
Sune clears his throat. “Men?”
“MEN! It’s always fucking men!”
"Lost in you or lost in the thought of you
Hymns of the poets and words of saints paints a beautiful picture of you.
Subconscious of me is the conscious of you.
Madness in me is the calmness in you.
Stupidity in me is a laughter for you.
Days spent is like minutes with you.
Pain of those old wounds just heal due to you.
Listening the sound of silence is the best thing to do with you."
-Ankur Sharma-
“Since we’re done with that stupidity. It’s time for my condition.” He wraps his fingers around my neck. “Don’t run away from me again. If you do, I’ll flip the world upside down to find you. You’re mine now, baby.”