Everyone needs a hole in a tree in which to whisper secrets.
Some of my most erotic experiences have been in my imagination.
Waiting for someone to become available is the ultimate torture.
Most of your life is spent wanting rather than having.
The future is a train station named Love.
Red is the colour of love.
Nat “King” Cole is the soundtrack of love.
Cigarette smells, in the shape of love, curve towards the light.
27 pears is a banquet.
Love is holding hands in a foggy taxi to a symphony of neon.
The most passionate love doesn’t always end in sex.
Everything is temporary.
The departure lounge is a rehearsal for when someone leaves you forever.
A hole in a wall is the imprint of unrequited love.
Love cannot be captured in an aphorism.