I am totally completely eye popping seriously groundbreaking passionately deliciously in love with you.

Stop being so nice in bed. Tell me what to do. Talk dirty. Play rough.

Kyo-chan! I love you so much!

I love you. I love you… so much. Just as you are.

I love you. When did I start to love you so much?

I just want to do crazy stuffs to you.

Pelt you wet kisses on my back, bite my thighs, lick my neck, hold me with all the face you got and get me wanting you more.

I never wanted someone as badly as I want you.

You know that shit you think about when you’re alone that eats you up inside?…Yeah.

When I look into your eyes, I feel euphoria, but when you kiss my neck, I taste the paradise.

I will love in such a way that no one will be able to grab you from me.

Your love intoxicates me.

I will make sure I driver harder and get you shaking all over. I’m that bad!

I have a deep desire to know how much your body can take. To let those sensations take control of you. To have you exposed and bare. To just make you feel and not resist.

Sometimes I’m overwhelmed by how much I miss you.

Kiss me like you miss me.

I want to kiss you until your mouth no longer knows how to ask for more.

When I see you all I want to do is run to you grab you and kiss you hard.

Let me kiss you deeply and see if I can take your breath away.

I love you, in ways you’ve never been loved, for reasons you’ve never been told, for longer than you think you deserved and with more than you will ever know existed inside me.

Beginnings can be delicate or explosive. They can start almost invisibly or arrive with a big bang. Beginnings hold the promise of new lessons to be learned, new territory to be explored, and old lessons to be recalled, practiced, and appreciated. Beginnings hold ambiguity, promise, fear, and hope.

Don’t let the lessons, the experiences of the past, dampen your enthusiasm for beginnings. Just because it’s been hard doesn’t mean it will always be that difficult. Don’t let the heartbreaks of the past cause you to become cynical, close you off to life’s magic and promise. Open yourself wide to all that the universe has to say.

Let yourself begin anew. Pack your bags. Choose carefully what you bring, because packing is an important ritual. Take long some humility and the lessons of the past. Toss in some curiosity and excitement and what you haven’t yet learned. Say your good-byes to whose you’re leaving behind. Don’t worry who you will meet or where you will go. The way has been prepared. The people you are to meet will be expecting you.

A new journey has begun. Let it be magical. Let it unfold. Take time now to honour the beginning.

I hope you kiss me really hard when I see you.

You’re not going to be able to move after I’m finished with you tonight.

I will whisper in your ear to reach orgasm while you dig those sexy nails into my back!

The fireworks bangbangbanged in sync with my heartbeat.

How could the girl who told that joke three hours before become a sobbing mess?

I’d never been born again with the baptism and weeping and all that, but it couldn’t feel much better than being born again as a guy with no known past. I thought of the people I’d read about — John F. Kennedy, James Joyce, Humphrey Bogart — who went to boarding school, and their adventures — Kennedy, for example, loved pranks. I thought of the Great Perhaps and the things that might happen and the people I might meet and who my roommate might be.

‘AHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!’ he screamed.
‘So that’s Sara,’ I said.
‘Yes.’
‘She seems nice.’

And then I was asleep. That deep, can-still-taste-her-in-my-mouth sleep, that sleep that is not particularly restful but is difficult to wake from all the same.

We were planning on going to Vegas. Go buy some Chevy and then Jimmy gets his legs ripped off and f*ck.

I’m about to bust a fatty.

Gutless fuck! Come and have a go at me, you lady-boy cunt!

I’m going harder than coming out of the closet to conservative Christian fathers.

Kill people, burn s**t, f**k school. I’m f**kin’ radical, n**ga. I’m motherf**kin’ radical. Left, right, left, right.

I am not scared I tell myself but the fear of starting over again has consumed me deeper than I have ever wanted to admit.

Eighty thousand pounds of muscle, blood, and steel in a pile. It’s spectacular.

The capital phenomenon, the most catastrophic disaster, is uninterrupted sleeplessness, that nothingness without release.

A trucker’s life ain’t for everyone.

While others drive, we drive big trucks.

INSOMNIA… Always undress in the dark. When you have broken three chairs, upset the centre table and stepped on six assorted tacks, you will realize what a stupid habit sleeping is anyway, and your senses will have become so acute that you will want to sit up and read the Family Story Paper during that portion of the night which has not been devoted to swearing.

Like travel, insomnia is an uprooting experience. You are torn out of sleep like a plant from its native soil, then shaken down so that any clinging vestige of slumber falls away, naked confusion exposed like nerve endings. Sleep, in its turn, is a matter of gravity. It pulls you down, beds you in the earth, burrows you in. In sleep you connect back to the bedrock that provides nourishment and restorative rest.

Truck drivers come back when it’s light.

Off the road and into gear.

Spit sick shit like my saliva got rabies in it.

Listen deeper than the music before you put it in a box.

Once you go black, you gonna need a wheelchair.

An Englishman will burn his bed to catch a flea.