Love between two people is sacred, and also secret—and shouldn’t be shared with a third person. But come on, you can trust me.
We made love like two cars that were out of gas. I tried to fill her up, but couldn’t because I myself was empty.
I make love like Jello-O is liquid. And I masturbate like Jell-O is solid. I’m tired of sex with blow up dolls.
We’re all lonely and looking for love, even if you’re fat, stinky, and asexual. You should wear a suit of armor when you have sex.
I watch you while you sleep. Is that love? It would be, if I put down my binoculars, and you picked up your phone.
Today I’m in love. Today is Tuesday, though that’s not why I’m in love. I’m in love with Friday, and I actually fell in love yesterday.
My voice is raspy, like Rasputin’s beard. My love is like a mustache hidden in a patch of armpit hair. Come, feel what I feel for you.
The more I thought to myself, 'Are my thoughts right, am I being obedient enough?' the worse it was... one of the most painful things you can experience in life is not so much physical pain, but being self-occupied. Because to the extent you are self...
I locate a great deal of the power of Occupy Wall Street in the name itself, 'Occupy Wall Street,' or '#OccupyWallStreet.' It works because the name contains everything you need to know: the tactic and the target. The name is also modular. You can cr...
When Occupy Wall Street happened, I took my money out of Citibank. I already had problems with all the banks - Citibank, Bank of America - but I was kind of just too lazy to take my money out until I saw how Citibank responded to Occupy Wall Street.
The Security Council represents the situation from 1945 - you had the Allies who won the war who occupied that. The defeated guys - the Germans and Japan - were out. The occupied countries had no voice. That was fine in '45, but today, Germany rules ...
Sometimes to make no move is to make the wrong move. That’s how I fell in love with a statue. We just sat still and I formed a connection.
I am the parking garage of love, but sadly I’m empty at the moment. It’s cheaper if you pay for a whole week, rather than by the hour.
The two squirrels quarreled like lovers, and it moved me so much I made both into one toupee. I’m not bald, but that doesn’t mean I don’t wear it. I’m a romantic.
I only had one drink. The problem was, my vodka glass could hold one gallon. I thought I was in love, but I was really intoxicated.
Even though my voice is invisible, my words aren’t dead and ghostlike. My “I love you” is alive and well.
My flashlight’s not working. I don’t know if the batteries are dead, but my mother-in-law sure as hell isn’t. When she dies, my love can live.
He lies on the couch all day watching television. I admire his classic American ambition. He’s probably a better lover than me.
Love is a skeleton wrapped in a bacon blanket. It’s sizzling and hot and tasty and I’d love to have some right now with a large cup of coffee.
I’m a murderer. I killed the conversation. She said she loved me, and I said, “If you love me, wait until you meet my clone!
I made a Lindsey Sandwich out of two Jennifers and a Jessica. Then I ate it like I make love—alone, in the corner, with a box of tissues and lots of tears.
