I want a coffee machine that runs on gasoline and drives me to work. We can make love in the backseat, next to the cream and sugar.
The fire burnt down our House of Love. Our relationship didn’t work because I was the water, and she was the empty hose.
Bob poured and brought two cups over, hardly rattling them on the saucers. "Drink up. This should restore your inner bitch." Bailey scowled at him. "See?" he said. "It's working already, and all you've had is fumes.
Friendship is a combination of art and craft. The craft part is in knowing how to give and how to take. The art part is in knowing when, and the whole process only works when no one is keeping track.
I’ll kill you with kindness. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll kill you with something deadlier, like a karate chop.
Where have you been?" he asked slowly. "Um, in the bathroom, mostly," Larry said. Let's just say my plumbing is not working any better than Mexico City's.
I tried to explain as much as I could," Poppet says. "I think I made an analogy about cake." "Well, that must have worked," Widget says. "Who doesn't like a good cake analogy?
There's an epigram tacked to my office bulletin board, pinched from a magazine -- "Wanting to meet an author because you like his work is like wanting to meet a duck because you like pâté.
To amuse oneself in order that one may exert oneself, as Anacharsis puts it, seems right; for amusement is a sort of relaxation, and we need relaxation because we cannot work continuously.
In a supersonic jet, you'll land before you take off. Your watch - if it's working right - will go back. (It'll stop if it's not). You've made a journey forwards and backwards at the same time. The trip will make you younger.
So it's not gonna be easy. It's going to be really hard; we're gonna have to work at this everyday, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, everyday. You and me... everyday.
Sometimes your kids will say the nastiest things, won't they, Rose? You want to ask,'Whose child is this?'" Rose chuckled. "But usually, they're just in some kind of pain. They need to work it out.
I make my living as a farmer. I milk the clock at work. And I make love like a dentist. Oh yes, I am that erotic.
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.
Well, the ancients might not have been very heroic. Most of them were probably like Mother, crouched somewhere trying to work out how to make fake jawbone jewelry that would look like the real thing.
Now the tea began to do its work- as it always did- and the world that only a few minutes previously had seemed so bleak started to seem less so.
I have been smashed and put back together so many times nothing works right. Nothing is where it should be, heavy thumping in my shoulder where my heart now beats.
Police business is a hell of a problem. It’s a good deal like politics. It asks for the highest type of men, and there’s nothing in it to attract the highest type of men. So we have to work with what we get...
People—especially men—don't always know what they want. You try, and if it doesn't work, then you may quit.” As if she'd read her mind, Abuelita frowned and scolded, “Hearts mend, but lost chances are gone forever.
The child will leave the nest. The best paint job will crack. The best play will become boring. The best work will grow tedious. The best art will lose meaning. The greatest creation will decay. Behind all this, lies my true self.
This conflict between right and fact has endured since the origins of society. To bring the duel to an end, to consolidate the pure ideal with the human reality, to make the right peacefully interpenetrate the fact, and the fact the right, this is th...
