No wonder people took sex so seriously, or not seriously enough at all. Sex addled your wits and stole your body. It was like being lost and found all at once.

She explained to me later that she must have been possessed by a subconscious desire to be raped. Well she found me in the mountains and she was raped - by me.

Only a determined and resourceful scholar could establish manuscript precedence - but in the race to masturbate on a printed page Proust definitely came first.

On the bed - now,” he ordered, yanking the band of his shorts and dropping them on the floor. “I need to fuck right now more than I need to breath.

I made love to a woman who didn’t exist, and I can’t remember how it didn’t feel. It amazes me how often I think about not thinking about it.

Every person has the right to be loved in the way she/he wants to be loved. Making love is not something you do to someone; making love is something you share.

Well, you finally got me," Helen had whispered to him, tearfully, but Garp had sprawled there, on his back on the wrestling mat, wondering who had gotten whom.

The word "sex" has no sex. It is androgynous and probably asexual. And even though I have sex (my sex is male), I have no sex, despite knowing willing females.

When you’re in love you don’t have to do a damn thing. You can just be. You can just stay quiet in the world. You don’t have to move an inch.

A bachelor, a studio, those were the names for that kind of apartment. Separate entrance it would say in the ads, and that meant you could have sex, unobserved.

Sex has to do with your physical body, while gender has to do with your social expression of a range of masculinities and/or femininities (and/or neutralities).

For men, money, like sex, is something that nearly everybody wants more of, and unless you are famous or influential, you probably have to work hard to get any.

Lust was a positive high-tension cable, plugged into my core, activating a near-epileptic seizure of conviction that this was the one thing I had to do in life.

The trouble with words is that you can really talk yourself into a corner. You can't fuck yourself into a corner."That's a man talking," muttered Hana.

I had a dream about you. We made love in short bursts, like sound bites, and you left teeth marks—or denture bites—on my mannequin-like body.