Rage against the world, if you like, but quietly, or the Guardians will awake.
Learned researches lead to headaches, constipation, and befuddled quarreling.
I know that I am very much like everybody else, but not really.
Everyone makes sexy sounds; relatively few, sexy sights.
Sex is not imaginary, but it is not quite real either.
Sign at the orgy: BODIES ONLY.
An illicit love affair seems sweetly old-fashioned in the age of one night stands and orgies.
Young girls giggle with nervous delight at the erections they inspire.
The popping of bubblegum discourages the most determined lecher.
Sexual attraction makes the strangest bedfellows of all.
To be sexy, nudes need a little underwear.
Blonds look angelic, but can (oh, happy!) be fleshy as well.
It is hard to speak of sex without being clinical, brutal, or romantic.
As a dream comes true, it falls flat.
Dreams surround our desires with ugliness and dread.
Dreams are distorted representations of desire. So are dream- analyses.
To love a fool is a misfortune, but does not make one a fool.
The educated can listen impassively to almost anything.
The young are just as opinionated as the old, but have more exciting things to do than sit around airing their opinions all day.
My young friend supposes his ingenuousness is merely a ruse.
The trouble with the young people today is that it is they who are young.
The young have stolen our youthfulness, and flaunt it without shame.
In youth, love and art. In age, investments and antiques.
The young break rules for fun. The old for profit.
Age must give way to youth, no doubt. But not yet, not yet.
