“He was my cream, and I was his coffee -And when you poured us together, it was something.”

“I like my coffee with cream and my literature with optimism.”

“It's just like when you've got some coffee that's too black, which means it's too strong. What do you do? You integrate it with cream, you make it weak. But if you pour too much cream in it, you won't even know you ever had coffee. It used to be hot, it becomes cool. It used to be strong, it becomes weak. It used to wake you up, now it puts you to sleep.”

“I poured a compass into my coffee, to give the flavor some direction.”

“Put a scoop of ice cream on it?” she asked. “And coffee. Everyone want coffee?” She looked inquiringly at us, smiling in a way that made me decidedly nervous, especially after that “I can get us a body” remark, and I nodded.Coffee? Why not?”

“If coffee meant vagina, I’d ask you if you wanted cream in your coffee. But it doesn’t mean that, so I’ll just sit here and continue sipping my mug full of steaming vagina.”