I want to sprint into her open arms, but I run as fast as two shoes tied together and thrown over a telephone wire. I’m like Roger Bannister, now that he’s in a wheelchair.

My neck size is about the size of both of my girlfriend’s clenched hands. They say strangulation is a crime of passion, and I say it’s the sign of romance in a relationship.

I once placed third in the Battle of the Fourth Places. There were only two other competitors, so I felt proud. My grandma and grandpa beat me, despite having been dead over five years.

I’m late to dinner, but I’m early to being in love. I’m such a gentleman that I hold every door open—even if the guy sitting in the bathroom stall is protesting.

I don’t like breakfast—I prefer fixslow. I eat it like I devour your love, and it may take time, but we can put our relationship back together. Just pass me the maple syrup.

The last time somebody pointed out that cowboys ride horses, not tricycles, I shot him. Of course, I waited until another gunslinger gunned him down, but nevertheless, I still shot him.

I would have made you a cheesecake, but I don’t know how. And I would have bought you a cheesecake, but I have no job and no money. So please accept this stack of coupons instead.

The two squirrels quarreled like lovers, and it moved me so much I made both into one toupee. I’m not bald, but that doesn’t mean I don’t wear it. I’m a romantic.

I consider conversations with people to be mind exercises, but I don't want to pull a muscle, so I stretch a lot. That's why I'm constantly either rolling my eyes or yawning.

Americans wouldn’t be in the economic predicament we’re in, if there were no America. So we can all thank our founding fathers for America’s current monetary nightmare.

If my clone were standing next to me, I’d be beside myself with joy. I’d also be literally beside myself. In that case, I’ll bet you’d love me twice as much, huh?

I have moves like a go-go dancer mixed with Inspector Gadget’s go-go gadget legs. Do I detect you thinking not with your brain but with your Brain, in that you want to hump my leg?

I am Fried Quiero Loud Babcock (not bad cock), and I am here for the ranch dressing your father promised my father, 53 years ago. Kindly pour some on my salad and I’ll be on my way.

I’m a fan of Meatloaf. He has a voice like it’s covered in thick gravy. There’s nothing better to make love to, with the possible exception of grandma’s casserole.

No! Please! I'll tell you whatever you want to know!" the man yelled. "Really?" said Vimes. "What's the orbital velocity of the moon?""What?""Oh, you'd like something simpler?