Nobody dies from lack of sex. It's lack of love we die from.

and each of his voices left his body in a different colored soul and floated up towards the sun still singing.

Nobody dies from lack of sex. It's lack of love we die from.

Truly amazing, what people can get used to, as long as there are a few compensations.

Sooner or later, I hate to break it to you, you're gonna die, so how do you fill in the space between here and there? It's yours. Seize your space.

Menopause. A pause while you reconsider men.

He doesn't know which is worse, a past he can't regain or a present that will destroy him if he looks at it too clearly. Then there's the future. Sheer vertigo.