I don't know if real courage lies in storming barricades or simply not denying the truth.

Not as intolerable as being dead, in my opinion, but I'm very fond of me. I would miss me a lot.

He was breathing, which is always a good sign. As gently as I could I picked him up, placed him on the towel, wrapped it around him, and put him in my car. I drove to the emergency clinic, the cat purring on the seat beside me. “What’s his name?” the young man at the front desk asked as my towel and cat were whisked to a back room. “Uh…John Tomkins,” I said. “That’s different,” the receptionist said, writing it down. “He was a pirate,” I said. “I mean Tomkins. I don’t know about the cat. (...)

He was probably selfish in the sack. Probably selfish and greedy and...unsophisticated. And hung like a horse.

Love... doesn't happen every day. It doesn't happen at all for some people

Have I ever told you, you look like Monty Clift? he inquired in a deep, seductive voice. Before or after the accident?

We were locked onto each other as though we had just discovered this incredible thing you could do with two mouths pressing close and moist against each other. And the taste of him... Horrifyingly, unbearably sweet -- sweet in the way crack must feel hitting the bloodstream of an addict after years of staying clean.