This is a thing I read by a scientist... it said scientists now say that a man thinks about sex once every 7.3 seconds. Now, I know what I think every 7.3 seconds. It's just a bunch of meaningless gibberish.

Love is an artful arrangement of artless pretensions, whereby we labor to appear innocent in what we desire to be most cunning.

Actually, with those dirty movies, I find like, they're good for about fifteen, twenty minutes. I'm really interested. And, then, uh, there's one point, that all of a sudden I'm bored. You know? I just lose interest completely and I feel deeply ashamed.

I never do impressions, but I probably should. People like that stuff.

Chastity is oftener owing to diffidence and shame, than to fortitude of reason or virtue.

In love, first please the eye, then win the heart.

I can't be naturalistic enough to make it sound real. So instead, I just wander around aimlessly knowing that I'll be funny enough with stream of consciousness until I get to the actual explosively funny part.