I’ve never heard that the sexual act requires any particular intelligence. From what I’ve observed, many stupid people are easily able to produce children.

...just a little touches her and there. He puts his hands on your arms or back, he stands close to you, getting you used to him... it's a mating ritual. Like March of the Penguins.

Evie," Lillian interupted impatiently, "men expect to be deceived in these matters. They're happiest that way. If one were straightforward with them the whole prospect of marriage would be too alarming, and none of them would ever do it.

Well, you missed out on some important protocol, Ella. You can't stand between a Texan and his power tools. We like them. Big ones that drain the national grid. We also like truck-stop breakfasts, large moving objects, Monday night football, and the missionary position. We don't drink light beer, drive Smart cars, or admit to knowing the names of more than about five or six colors. And we don't wax our chests, ever.

If you married me,it would be scandalous and innapropriate, and doors would be closed to you." "Good God, woman, I let two of my sisters marry Gypsies. Those doors have already been closed, bolted, and nailed shut.

I never lie for the sake of kindness,” he murmured, smiling. “One of my many flaws.

We may run into Kevin,” Lucy said gloomily. “She’s hoping to run into Kevin,” Zoë assured her. Justine smiled grimly. “Preferably with my car.