“...I want to grab her collarbones as if they were handlebars.”

“I grabbed her, right there outside the lunch room in the swarming mob. I didn't care if others were watching. In fact, i hoped they were. I grabbed her and squeezed her. I had never been so happy and so proud in my life.”

“I want to buy a sports car, because I like riding bicycles. Hold on to my handlebar mustache if you value your life.”

“I left my youth behind me. It peddled the bicycle while I rode on the handlebars.”

“My first impulse is not to grab her or kiss her or yell at her. I simple want to touch her cheek, still flushed from the night's performance. I want to cut through the space that separates us, measured in feet-not miles, not continents, not years-and to take a callused finger to her face.”

“Love is a winding mountainous road. Do you have an extra unicycle and handlebar mustache I can borrow?”