SHE: Did you make love last night?
SHE: Never, several times.

Tell me again what it was you think your father did to you?
He looked at me repeatedly from the age of eleven.

See the little cockroach walk along the floor of your bedroom.
See my gigantic toes curl over one another.

HE: Your bedroom or mine?
SHE: Why not a motel or some other neutral turf, like the woods?

It is only under a dress that I surrender to you.
What makes you think my pants are so threatening?

To everything I say you drool in agreement.
I don't want to stop your flow.

What do you know about God?
Only that he, no She, tells me.

Would you like something to read?
Why do you want to poison me?