“He stared at me. His breathing made that wheezing sound that fat people sometimes make.”

“He made it sound like he was teaching me the ABC’s and knew there was no way I’d ever make it to Q.”

“His touch could never fail to make me feel desire; yet his hot, sweet breath also made me want to vomit.”

“Manilov was pleased by these final words, but he still couldn't make sense of the deal itself, and for want of an answer, he began sucking his clay pipe so hard that it started to wheeze like a bassoon. He seemed to be trying to extract from it an opinion about this unprecedented business; but the clay pipe only wheezed and said nothing.”

“I let my head fall forward into his shoulder, breathing in his scent. "Now what do we do?"He's quiet for a while and I finally lean back to look him in the eyes. He appears conflicted by something and then he sets me down on the ground, lacing his fingers through mine."Should we see where the wind takes us?" he asks.I stare at my hand in his and then look up at him. "That sounds good to me.”

“Sound doesn't carry as well through gills. You have to use a different level of your vocal chords." I point to the spot just above his Adam's apple. "Higher."He just stares at me, looking confused——but breathing like he was born to it."Pretend you're talking like a girl."No way, he mouths, shaking his head.Stupid male ego.”