I sorted my sordid sort ofs from my maybes. Then I made love like never before. Seriously, I’d never made love before, and I have to say, it didn’t cost me as much money as I expected.

Love is something you must work at. And if you can’t work at it, don’t expect the government to subsidize you. At least not until the Central Bank figures out how to counterfeit emotions.

Imagine there is a balloon tied to a severed human hand. As it floats into the sky it flaps in the breeze, and whether you perceive it to be waving hello or goodbye determines whether you are in love.

When the sky is blue, I think of her. When the sky is gray, I think of her. When the sky is black, I think of her. But when the sky is orange, I think of juice, and how I am thirsty—for her love.

My girlfriend and I are close. She’s like a brother to me. My brother is also dating her. We make love like mannequins and mashed potatoes, despite the fact that I’m single and an only child.

She wasn’t much for words, but she told me she loved me in other ways, like soft kisses, gentle caresses, and occasionally even acknowledging that I was also in the room with her and that other guy.

I asked what year the car was that was sitting in the driveway, but what I meant was how long had it been parked there. If it’s been there since 1982, I’ve been in love longer than it is wide.

I loved her like the sun raining down on my skin. It was all so confusing, because was it raining or was it sunny? The answer is that love is always both, and that’s why I prefer umbrellas over condoms.

From across the bar, I saw her see me seeing her see me, and I knew that she knew, and with all this knowledge and vision I figured it must be love. But I could be wrong, because it turns out that I need glasses.

But you speak of Master Gandalf, as if he was in a story that had come to an end.' 'Yes, we do,' said Pippin sadly. 'The story seems to be going on, but I am afraid Gandalf has fallen out of it.

If life has taught me anything, it’s that no matter what you should do, you should love. Even if you’re in the process of murdering someone, possibly a politician, your heart should be filled with love.

All the love I have left over from my last relationship is covered in tinfoil and labeled “Do Not Eat.” Since I don’t feel like cooking or making love, I’ll probably have it for dinner tonight.

My meeting was at 9:00 AM, and I walked in the room at 9:01. She said, “You’re late.” I stopped, my jaw open and slack, because I knew she was right. I was late—but for what? I was late for love.

And suddenly, as if her head had cleared, she was quite sure that wonderful things did indeed exist. Even if they’re only in my own mind, she thought, they’re there and worth fighting for. I mustn’t give in.

I think we all should be in love once in our lifetime, even if we’re in love with someone who’s not alive in our lifetime. Long distance relations are hard, especially when you’re separated by six feet of dirt.