I think calling it climate change is rather limiting. I would rather call it the everything change.

I planned my death carefully, unlike my life, which meandered along from one thing to another, despite my feeble attempts to control it.

His mouth is on me, his hands, I can't wait and he's moving, already, love, it's been so long, I'm alive in my skin, again, arms around him, falling and water softly everywhere, never-ending.

Kafka thought his stories were hilarious. We don't necessarily have that reaction to them, but he certainly laughed his head off every time he read them out loud.

I am too old to have ever been very worried about what "genre" any given book of mine might be. I read everything. I am easily amused.

Although from you I far must roam, do not be broken hearted. We two, who in the souls are one, are never truly parted.

You can think clearly only with your clothes on.