Not many men will love you like me. Of course, I’m not many men. I’m just several men. Or I will be, once my clones arrive.
The best reason to fall in love is because you’re alive, your heart is open, and your wallet is empty. I prefer women with lots of money.
Our love was so hot it could melt the polar ice caps. In fact, my passion’s probably to blame for global warming.
We made love like green is blue. That’s because we were only half into it, though for the record I was the blue and she was the disinterested yellow.
The race is long, and I am sprinting. If I ever see her again, I’ll probably be too out of breath to tell her I love her.
I’m tired of calling @PapaJohns. I wish they’d call me for once. I’m starting to think they don’t love me.
I left the door open so you could come in—and I could go out. That’s what being in love is all about.
As soon as I walked in the door, I could tell she was in love. And seeing as she was packing up all her stuff, the only question I had was, With who?
If you want me to have sex with you, I’ll have sex with you. If you want me to love you, I’ll have sex with you.
We made love like a half a minute. I brought the thirty seconds, and she provided the excuse as to why she didn’t have enough time to have sex with me.
Love is seeing her smile as if it’s a sunrise. It’s beautiful, but geez, I wish she’d quit grinning at me while I’m trying to sleep.
When I’m not eating, sleeping, working, or doing a hundred other things, I’m making love. I need to arrange my priorities. Sleeping should be first.
The best day of the week to fall in love is always today. Today will happen again tomorrow, so I’m comfortable sleeping alone for the next 24 hours straight.
The institution asked me to speak and say a few words. So, knowing a few is three, I said, I love you.
If two trees played each other, I don’t know who I’d root for. Probably the tree that’d make the better lover.
We made love like we made grilled cheese sandwiches. Did the sandwiches cause us to have sex? Did one bullet lead to WWI?
Maturity comes with experience, not age.
At its best our age is an age of searchers and discoverers, and at its worst, an age that has domesticated despair and learned to live with it happily.
Whatever poet, orator or sage may say of it, old age is still old age.
Europe to me is young people trying to appear middle-aged and middle-aged people trying to appear young.
You end up with a machine which knows that by its mildest estimate it must have terrible enemies all around and within it, but it can't find them. It therefore deduces that they are well-concealed and expert, likely professional agitators and terrori...
