“I walked back into the bedroom and, after all that, I actually was surprised. She lay on the bed, her hands nonchalantly behind her head, with the banana between her legs. Only half of it was alfresco. It was if we'd had sex and then, before heading for the bathroom, I'd bookmarked her vagina so as not to lose my place.”

“Anyway, my writer gang: they kind of did their comedy apprenticeship with me and, during that period, when they were young and impressionable, I think I infected them with my pun virus. They grew to enjoy puns, think puns, just as much as me. The problem is people don't really like puns any more, so I worry I've rendered the poor fuckers virtually unemployable.”

“Cider was my drink because I liked the taste and it made me stupid.”

“I place my hands over her ears and tip her head back, and kiss her, and try to put my heart into hers, for safekeeping, in case I lose it again.”

“She places her hands around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder. I can smell the sex on her, and my hope is that she can smell the love on me.”

“I loved her fright, which was against meinto the air! and the diamond white of her forelockwhich seemed to smart with thoughts as my heart smartedwith life!and she'd toss her head with the painand paw the air and champ the bit, as if I were Endymionand she, moon-like, hated to love me.”

“I do miss being pregnant. I find sometimes that I'm surprised by the difference between her body and my own -- that when I reach for her hand, I can't feel my touch with her fingers. This often happens when I walk with her in the sling, which must be as close as we can get to the womb. I'll touch her little leg or head and be surprised by the feeling of otherness. Her body is her own now.”