“What can I give you? I--""You give me everything.”

“See—this is the problem. You don’t even get where this is going. You can’t just ask me to come in, or kiss me, or tell me you want to know what smoking pot feels like. When I’m close to you I feel crazy, okay? When you say my name I feel crazy. It’s not…the right thing for you. I don’t think I can just…be your friend.”

“I’m not some sex addict trying to sort myself out. I don’t get a high from fucking everything that walks. I get a high from wanting someone as much as I want you. From actually thinking that for once … for once in my life someone actually cares enough to cry because they think they’ve messed me up.”

“I’m quite aware of what I am, Kit. I know how people look at me. I’m the guy you see in some bar, being loud and obnoxious. I’m the jock at your college, throwing a basketball onto your desk as you’re trying to study. I know I am. But I want more than that now. I’m too old to be playing games any more.”

“Dear God, she couldn't give this man sex. She could barely give it to Van, and he currently smelled so good she just wanted to shove her face under his t-shirt and eat whatever she found there.”

“You know it feels good. I can hardly geta…I don’t even…”There was something amusing about watching him trying to form a coherent sen-tence. Amusing, but arousing at the sametime.”

“A vagina. Were you really that mystified there, or are you actually not sure?’‘Sure about what?’Goddamn, he needs to finish his sentences.‘About the benefits of having a vagina.’‘Look – I know the benefits, OK?’I totally don’t. Currently it feels like an angry animal that wants to eat him, between my legs.”