Is this love? The light looks different. Actually the shade looks different. I feel different. Everything is just so different I don’t know where to begin...

When you feel a snake slither down your spine and your nipples are itchy, when your armpits tingle and your mouth is dry when you see him, that’s first love.

Words hate to waste energy. If you can’t find the right word, don’t look for it. It will find you. The right word at the right time stops wars, cures heartaches, mends bridges, sweeps away barriers.

When you’ve been everywhere, tried it all and done it all, what’s left is the exploration of self, intellectually and sexually, through curiosity and erotica.

Love hurts. First love is excruciating. Like being burned in orange flames and then cast into icy water. Your emotions change from one second to the next. You can’t sleep. You never sleep. First love is a form of dying and being reborn.

It’s lost time that matters – the time between time – the moments when you forget time and life just happens.

Time neither flies nor sleeps. It is flexible, plastic, ever changing. Spend two hours watching a movie curled up with your lover and time ceases to exist. Spend two hours waiting for your lover to come and time is the iron bars of a prison.

The way the leaves on the trees tremble in the passing air is the way love reaches you, from all directions at once, mysterious, overwhelming, indescribable. To be in love is to find something you didn’t know was missing.

In life there are perfect moments. You cannot plan them – the very act interferes with the laws of the universe – but you must be ready to recognise them when they come.

He said: I don’t like to read. And I said, honey, you haven’t found the right girl.