Living erotically is opening oneself up to nature-- externally and within.

I love clean sheets. It's the simultaneous reminiscence of how they got dirtied to begin with, and hopeful anticipation of what stories they will live to tell next time you are standing fatefully in front of the washing machine.

I believe eros dwells in our innermost being as the spirit of creative expression. To me, eros is a great path that we must walk, a song we listen to, a game that we hunt and enjoy, a lesson to learn, a garden where flowers bloom, a prodigious puzzle to solve, a book to read, a chapter to write, and an ocean to swim in. That’s what eros is to me.

How many rooms are there in the chambers of your heart? How many rooms full of memories can you describe like the one I’m going to tell you about. You know how you left him don’t you? The man you were so in love with once. Bing Cherry Silk. Another man left those for you didn’t he? And you put them on, just like I did.

I think someone gave me candy when I was younger, someone whose face I don't remember; a blank face from my nightmares.  He gave them to me to cover up the taste of something vile, and I associate the candy with the vile act before it.”
Dr. Jane moved over to the couch to sit next to me, put her arm around my shoulder, and cooed as if she were comforting a child.  I felt like a child.  I needed someone to hear the horror of this memory and explain what this might mean.

Sex is a team sport, sugar.