“The police seemed to think I killed her, which is crazy, because I loved her like a thousand drops of blood dripping down a dagger.”

“I like watching water drops drip off my eyelashes. Reminds me that I’m not the Desert of Love.”

“I wrote a thesis on love, and I wrote it in lipstick. Of course, I also got blood on the paper, because the lipstick was still attached to her cheating lips.”

“She was in a coma, and had been unresponsive for years. Every Tuesday I’d visit her and read to her, and as I’d leave I’d always say, “I love you,” as I’d kiss her on her forehead. One day as I was leaving, I said my normal I love you and kissed her, when her eyes popped open, she looked directly into my eyes, smiled, and then she said, “Spaghetti for brains albino idea weasel.” And that was when I stabbed her with a piece of garlic toast. It seemed like the most appropriate response. The police didn’t seem to agree, and I could tell by the way they bagged the evidence in a To Go box that they thought I was the lowest of the low, lower perhaps than even a politician. Well, not quite that low, but certainly with the cockroaches, vultures, and aids-infested vampires.”

“I asked if I could draw on her face, because not only was her head globe-shaped, but her nose was shaped like Italy. My love knows no boundaries.”

“If I had a choice between walking along a sidewalk with no rails and a thousand foot drop, or jumping in a tank full of blood and sharks, I’d choose the sharks.”

“I called to tell her I loved her, which was smart, because if I’d have done it in person, I’d have caught her with another man. I don’t care if he was my clone, it isn’t right and it pisses me off. I was backstabbed by myself.
”