“Love is snowy, like the raincloud I left in the freezer. I would ski on the slope of your kiss, but I’d be fearful of an avalanche.”

“If my skin wasn’t flesh, but was tinfoil, I’d probably not only be left-handed, but I’d be a leftover. I guess the real question is, Would you rather make love to me or make dinner?”

“As much as I would love to know what you know, I’d much rather eat your brain with a spoon.”

“I'm sure glad socks are made out of cotton, and not ice-cube trays, because I don't like keeping my socks in the freezer. Because if I did that, then where would I keep my underwear?”

“If I were silent and invisible, I’d fear nobody. And if I were tasteless too, not even the cannibals or modern art critics would touch me.”

“As much as I want to make love to you, I’d rather make love to your clone.”

“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.”