My shoes are scuffed and dirty from dancing. The grave of my enemy is where I go to find my inner Astaire.

“With cars I like newer models, but with people I like older models. Why aren’t …”

“How many ways can I say “I love you”? I could say it in another language, like …”

“I postulate that there is something stickier than semen. That substance is love.”

“I’m going to go up on my way down. I’m just a sideways sort of person.”