Other girls play with soft toys,” I said, “and you play with knives…

— Jess C. Scott

People are sheep. TV is the shepherd.

— Jess C. Scott

Please, touch me, I pray.

— Jess C. Scott

[Poem: Slates of Grey]Sullen faces like slates of gray—What I’d seen on a walk today. Bodies rushing bodies bolting Time for life a disregarding. Money to make and to grow old What about the hands to hold? Deadlines, projects, people to meet What about our own two feet. Sullen faces like slates of gray... What I’d see most anyway.

— Jess C. Scott

Sex parties, alcohol and drugs lost their appeal to Sven after a while. Music never did, in his continual search for that sober connection--intimacy with one person over a long period of time, as opposed to periods of intimacy with a bunch of random faces.

— Jess C. Scott

She felt the cold blast from the sterile air conditioning on her bare arms and thighs, as she ambled down the center of the shopping complex's first floor. The scene was a swirl of candy bright lights--the Victoria's Secret fuchsia signboard, signboards which lured one to purchase "confidence," or "sexual appeal," or whatever it was that was being advertised--the fluorescent lights in each store, contrasting with the shiny, black-tiled walls and eye-catching speckled marble tiles on the ground. One could lick the floor--the tiles were spotless, clean like the fake air she was breathing in, like the atoms and cells in her that were decaying in stale neglect.

— Jess C. Scott

She was my black rose, a broken angel I could hug and drift away with into peaceful oblivion.

— Jess C. Scott

That’s sad. How plastic and artificial life has become. It gets harder and harder to find something…real.” NIN interlocked his fingers, and stretched out his arms. “Real love, real friends, real body parts…

— Jess C. Scott

The brightest light casts the darkest shadow.

— Jess C. Scott

The human body is the best work of art.

— Jess C. Scott