Women were excited after sex, wired becasue in their minds the relationship was on beginning. Men went to sleep m the because for the orgasm had arrived and the relationship was done.
All I wanted was you. I tore down my wall for you. Now it’s been rebuilt.
We see what we want to see. We idealize each other with our own fantasies.
Once desire was turned on, combustion gave it a life of its own. Once it was turned on it became a raging wildfire, uncontrollable and uncontainable, the type of conflagration that had to be allowed to burn itself out.
That’s what sex does: it starts relationships and it verifies the end of relationships.
Sleeping with strangers will have you walking with enemies.
And a woman needs a man to protect her from other men. Well, women used to. . . . Things have changed. Women are in the middle East, fighting and protecting men now.
DNA predisposes a certain behavior, but if your environment doesn’t support it, then that behavior won’t manifest. When people don’t have opportunity, they have to create their own opportunities
hate isn’t healthy, it damages the hater more than the one who’s hated!
… honesty is like seeing a crackhead up close: it ain’t that fucking attractive.
Some crazy man came up to me and started screaming at me about how he hated Allah, and before I could tell him that my family was part of the Catholic Church in India, he knifed me.
It is silent, an anagram for listen. That is what I do. Listen while she remains silent.
It’s scary telling someone you care about, someone you love who you really are.
Physical attraction was about aesthetics, not sexual performance, not mental stimulation. Without a mental connection, a remarkable sexual performance yielded no lifelong guarantees. It was only lust. And lust was not love.
I deserved to find pleasure that surpassed my imagination, better than any I had experienced.
A woman of European heritage sporting a preacher’s collar had the opposite effect of a Muslim woman wearing a hijab. She used her privilege and the favored religion to look like a golden child.
I went to public school but kept to myself. When you live in a brothel, you don’t want anyone coming to your home.
. . . the walls of her vagina tightening around me as she laughed.