“Please Tell me what your favorite flavor of ice cream... is”

“No hospitals, she says.I know.Where are we going?For ice cream. What's your favorite flavor?Fuck you.That's my favorite, too.”

“Time whips up cream for those who are ready for dessert.”

“Icing, meet cake.”

“Look at me Elise. Tell me what you think I’m feeling,” he murmured, then bent his head to hers and pressed his mouth to her parted lips.”

“You can’t just come out and say what you have to say. That’s what people do on airplanes, when a man plops down next to you in the aisle seat of your flight to New York, spills peanuts all over the place (back when the cheapskate airlines at least gave you peanuts), and tells you about what his boss did to him the day before. You know how your eyes glaze over when you hear a story like that? That’s because of the way he’s telling his story. You need a good way to tell your story.”

“Sometimes I feel like the punchline of God's favorite joke.”