“He was pushing fifty, with a face life had chewed on, and long wisps of graying hair parted low on one side and combed over his balding pate.”

“The bellboy that showed me to the room was this very old guy around sixty-five. He was even more depressing than the room was. He was one of those bald guys that comb all their hair over from the side to cover up the baldness. I'd rather be bald than do that. Anyway, what a gorgeous job for a guy around sixty-five years old. Carrying people's suitcases and waiting for a tip.”

“The man on TV was balding. What little hair he had was gray--not a nice-looking silver or even white, but a dull, lifeless gray. Depressing. Ugly. He was the person who told me my life was going to drastically change--the man with the ugly gray hair.~Eva”

“Anyone have some mints or some gum?" Bonnie asked. No one did, and she turned to Joe Hill Conley. She scrutinized him a moment, then, using her fingers, combed his part over to the left side. "That looks better," she said. Nearly two decades later, the little hair he has left remains parted by Bonnie's invisible hand.”

“He takes one finger and moves my lace panties to the side. He darts his tongue inside me and the pleasure is almost unbearable. He grabs my hips and pushes his face farther, working my wet sex as if he hasn’t had it in a long time.”

“And only now, when he was gray-haired, had he fallen in love properly, thoroughly, for the first time in his life.”