"I let coffee drip into my mouth the same way I fall in love—slowly, as I wring out my shirt before going to scrub off the 32-ounce spill. I’m as romantic as a free-refill station that’s out of sugar, cream, and stirring sticks."
"Our love went from fly to flower to butterfly, and it was meant to beautifully flutter, not sit still on a shelf like a trophy to be collected."
"I just invented a device that eliminates vice. It looks like a bottle of booze, only it’s empty, because I just drank it."
"I know she is going on vacation, so I knitted her a sweater. It matches the bathing suit I knitted her, and it’s as revealing as my feelings for her."
"The Book of Life, I’m still writing it—both literally and literarily. So far I’ve written the Table of Contents. Right now it’s more of a coffee table."
"Why are desire scales 1-10? They should be 1-12, like a clock, because I want her 1-12, I mean like all the time."