“My left hand is my thinking hand (image), my right hand my doing hand (sequence).”

“My left hand is my bad hand. I spank it with my right hand. You might call it clapping, but I call it discipline.”

“...I remain restless and dissatisfied; what I knot with my right hand, I undo with my left, what my left hand creates, my right fist shatters”

“My hand found its way back to her knee. I hoped it was to comfort her. I’d hate to think that my right hand was straight. “Soon. I’ll call her this afternoon and get back to you.” She nodded. I removed my right hand, thankful that I was left-handed. I’d hate to have to try masturbating with a straight hand. It probably wouldn’t cooperate. And then where would I be?”

“I was suddenly left with nothing in my hands but a handful of crazy stars.”

“Looking down on it from the helicopter, with a bottle of Jack in my left hand, a bag of pills in my right hand, and a blond head bobbing up and doen in my lap, I felt like the king of the world.”