“I love like a lawnmower in the desert. I love like a solar-powered lunar vehicle. I love like a wind-powered kite factory. Some might even say I love like an ice cube in an oven, but I’d vehemently disagree. It’s not an ice cube, it’s an ice sculpture—of your heart, and it’s melting at this very moment.”

“I was nervous. Like an ice cube, I just froze up. Then I melted in some strange guy’s drink.”

“I made an ice sculpture that represents my love for you. It never melts.”

“I make love like a flamethrower would make a good ice machine. But that’s OK, because I like ice water.”

“Did I hear that right? Did someone say ice cream? It’s an odd thing to say in the middle of a eulogy, but hell yes, I could go for some ice cream. We could take a break, because it’s not like this guy won’t still be dead in a half an hour.”

“Just like trying to ice skate on two sticks of butter in the desert, my love for her melted and was no good to anyone but a chef.”

“The only drink I like ice in is water, because you can’t water down water. I’m like that with love, too. Don’t you dare add any ice to the hot liquid loving I’m trying to pour all over you.”