Most of my friends were in band, and most of my free time during school was spent within twenty feet of the band room
PACKAGE MARRIAGE Arranged / Mail Order – Tripping over objects in a dark room, hoping to find the light switch Kamil Ali
I'd love to wake up next to you in this room, in this bed, every day.
She is INSANE," I scream, standing in the middle of Marshall's living room. "Of course, she's insane. That would be your genealogy by the way.
He was an introverted kid, so I didn’t send him to his room as punishment. No, I took him to a party.
An empty room holds nothing but memories. At least it would, if I didn’t just finish packing up the last of the sadness.
I saw her standing across the room, and I thought, “Wow! Who is that sexy woman she’s standing next to?
I want a house with a garage, so someone from the government won’t try to park a tank in my living room.
I’m not a bicycle. Don’t try to ride me and leave me in the garage. I’m a treadmill. Walk on me and leave me in a guest room.
There's no room for anything but joy and fear, and joy ruled the house. Fear lived in the shack out back!
When a small night-lamp alone illuminated our love-making, it became a very small, circular room which silently passed through nights humming with stars.
Either that’s your mobile buzzing in your room, or there’re sex toys you haven’t told us about having a party in there without you.” ~ Josh Larsen
Belonging to a place isn't nearly as necessary as belonging to people you love and who love you and need you.
You'll never reach perfection because there's always room for improvement. Yet get along the way to perfection, you'll learn to get better.
You turn me on from across the room, and I’ll completely melt if you come any closer.
The shadows of the room pool in the lines of our faces, draining our eyes of hue. "There's nothing left worth saying.
For years I dreamed of having the sort of massive oak slab that would dominate a room...
I have opened all the doors in my head. I have opened all the pores in my body. But only the tide rolls in.
Private moments held not a candle to coitus, not even the expensive kind of candle that made the whole room smell of far off seasons.
It’s easier to drink my hot coffee when I’m lying in it, naked, in my bathtub. There’s room enough for two, if you’re thirsty for my loving.
I want to create vagina-scented scratch and sniff stickers. You know, for lovers. They’d be dispensed in vending machines in YMCA locker rooms.
