She kissed him… long enough he could almost hear her thoughts. Long enough that he began to know her story, know what she had been through.

Love and poor parenting are acceptable topics for any formal meal I make.

There might have been prettier women in the room but, when she turned those babies on, fluttered her eyelashes, I was hers. It had taken me nearly fifteen years to extinguish their light. Now, when she looks at me, it's a vacuum. I had drained so much from her over the course of our marriage that every glance rips a little bit of my soul away to fill the void I had whittled within her.

Romantic comedies very rarely deal with washing your lover's dishes because she has to be up early for work, since no one wants to see the mundane truth when they can flip the channel to a desperate, emotionally-limited frottage.

If you don't want to marry a partner while on a relaxing vacation, you shouldn't be with them. On the other hand, romantic gestures are fine, but one does have to return home to a sink of dirty dishes and day jobs to keep the lights on. One shouldn't base too much on a beach making one tingly.

You and me? We are never going to be just friends. The only time I'm not adoring you is when I am too busy hating you and wishing to God I never met you...

Lovers are not meant to be trusted, as our bodies are lying to our brains via rushes of hormones. Once these are more settled, our brains return the favor, assuring the body it is comfortable and wouldn't rather sow wilder seeds and plow more fields.

She was an exotic flower amongst the snowdrifts, out of place, a Technicolor misfit in a monochrome Christmas movie.

His kisses were so hungry and male, which isn't bad. Every kiss said he could never have enough, but he wasn't going to stop trying. They were so hormonal. I wanted his sugar roughness. Girl's kisses are deliberate and polished. When she kisses me - when I kiss her - she doesn't want me. She has me and knows it.