“If love were a color, it’d be transparent, like all women’s clothing should be.”

“I love the way the color lavender smells, and the way the color salmon tastes. And if there were a color called “fur,” I’d like the way it feels.”

“I told her she should come back to my place because it’d just won sixth place in the Living Room Olympics, and sixth place is like double bronze.”

“Love has a shape, but no color. You’re probably wondering, “If it’s transparent, how do you know what shape it is?” Good question. Well, for one thing, I put it together, and for another, I’m currently wearing it like body armor (though to the casual observer, I appear naked).”

“I love women’s breasts. I love how they don’t blink when I stare at them.”

“A brick is a lot like love. I mean, I’m sure it is. It simply must be. However, I can’t think of how at the moment, but that’s natural, because I’m not Cupid. OK, here’s something: A brick has six sides, and love—wait, no, love only has five sides. Damn! A brick is red, and love—is transparent (visually it’s invisible, and truthfully it’s transparent). So color is out, shape is out—which leaves sound. A brick is silent, while love sounds like the hum of an electric generator. After a while, you may not hear it and you think it’s silent, but that’s only because you’re acclimated to it and have tuned it out.
”

“If I were the color blue, and you were the color orange, I wouldn't want you around all the time, because who wants to be constantly complimented?”