This morning my car wouldn’t start. I guess that’s better than if my car wouldn’t stop. As a lover I’m a bring-my-own-bicycle kind of guy.
I built a Name Machine. It’s a vending machine that dispenses monikers. For 50 cents, now you can be called Don G. Lover, just like your mom.
A woman’s sexuality is not at all like a man’s. A man can literally f**k a watermelon and come. If you put enough friction on his c**k, in some semblance of a rhythm, he will orgasm. It’s a no brainer.
Not much makes me feel uncomfortable about sexuality. It’s the most natural thing in the world. I don’t really get why people make such a stink. It’s like being embarrassed of hunger or thirst.
Just ask me to show you, and I will. I may be a virgin, a first time lover, but every second I can't do what burns in me to do, is an eternal fucking torment. ~Ruin
I can be a better friend, lover, and humanitarian, but I can’t be a better eggroll. Sadly, I’m as good of an eggroll as I’ll ever be.
Your kids are happy if you're happy. And if your love is happy, then everything works. I think a lot of people think once the children are there, it's all about the children. But you can't forget about your best friend, your lover, your husband.
I had a dream about you. I asked you out to coffee, and you said, “No thanks. I’m a recovering insomniac.” I said, “No worries. My conversational skills are sure to put you to sleep.”
I had a dream about you last night... I think I've realized why drive-in theatres are going extinct; you can't yell at the guy in front to sit down.
I had a dream about you. The sky was green and the ground was blue. You spoke a song and I sang my thoughts. We ate lemonade and drank cookies. It all made perfect sense.
I had a dream about you last night... in it, I tried to sell a squirrel a deposit box to store his nuts in. He stole my cashews in the complimentary snack basket.
I had a dream about you last night... we tried to joke but neither could make any sense. We realized that puns are present in every language, though not shared by any of them.
The front door swung open, and Zsadist strode into the house. Wrath glared. "Nice of you to show up, Z. Busy tonight with the females?" "How about you get off my dick?
The pages of history are red with the blood of illuminated "saints" who were murdered by their religions for actually achieving the advertised spiritual rewards.
...and awakening, at that moment, to the thrilling prospect of complete surrender, not just of one’s lips but of one’s entire body to a lover’s mercy, we recognized that the gap between compassion and surrender is love’s darkest, deepest regi...
I'm not a sci-fi lover; I wasn't from the start. So perhaps I miss that passion for other worlds, other dimensions, that sort of scope and that magnitude of storytelling; that's not my thing though I meet plenty of people whose thing it definitely is...
Authors always carry a means for scribbling and an excuse for pausing, often inopportunely, to record those fleeting sparks of creative fancy that might otherwise vanish like a wisp in the wind if ignored. Writing is a jealous and needy lover.
I am the lover's gift; I am the wedding wreath; I am the memory of a moment of happiness; I am the last gift of the living to the dead; I am a part of joy and a part of sorrow.
True love is jealousy in disguise: A man cannot restrict his lover from going to the club because he hates her, he actually hates the men who would come around and touch her.
When love is sweet, the sweetness means its light And light may keep the truth, when love is pure. But love is bitter, when it turns to fight. Lovers in a fight are quite immature.'' From the poem ''A Note on Existentialist Love
Sadly, there are many forces more powerful and devestating than love... Among them for example, the anger and jealousy of a spurned husband or lover. Fire begets passions, but it also burns.
