“He was fucking with us pretty hard in the saferoom,” Sandra called from the front of the plane’s undercarriage.“Aw, Sandy, that wasn’t fucking,” Simon said. “That was just, I don’t know, really obnoxious foreplay or something.”

“Call it inevitable, call it the doomed fate of love. Call it karmic, fucked up, the dance of the wolves. Live it, love it, call it life. Call it Led Zeppelin. Yeah, yeah. Really, I don’t really, really don’t fucking care.”

“Don’t mind us,” Mack called. “They probably don’t get a lot of foreplay in hospital waiting rooms. You’re breakin’ the monotony of tears and tantrums. “Mack!” Carrie hissed. “Tate just kissed her, that’s hardly foreplay.”“You weren’t watchin’ close enough, honey. That was definitely foreplay.”

“Perry, when I fuck you, you’re going to want it. And you’re going to be sober. I don’t want just your body in all of this. I want everything. Your soul too.” “That’s a pretty tall order,” I said breathlessly…“I know,” he said determinedly. “And it’s something I am willing to work for.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he breathed into her hair, squeezing the air from her. “Fuck. Just wait for me.”That was all he needed to say. “I will.”

“The fuck?” he said. “The fuck?” said Jess. “The fuck what?” “It's an American abbreviation,” said Martin. “ «The fuck?» means «What the fuck?» In America, they’re so busy that they don’t have time to say the «what».”