The secret of torture, like the secret of French cuisine, is that nothing is unthinkable.

Nothing is as burdensome as a secret. French Proverb

The unthinkable happened and nothing can undo it.

Perhaps that is what love is: the momentary or prolonged refusal to think of another person in terms of power

God made them? You think God made them? Did God call White Flower Farm and order the bulbs? Did God put it on his credit card? Did God dig holes for the bulbs in the fall and mix bone meal in the dirt to feed them and cover them with mulch in the winter? If you think God did that, you're an idiot!

The old Inquisition had its rack and its thumbscrews and its instruments of torture with iron teeth.