...seeing the way his trousers clung to those most English parts.

What your mind sees when you close your eyes marks the entrance to an endless universe: your imagination.

His was a great sin who first invented consciousness. Let us lose it for a few hours.

He studied my appearance carefully. __ou cut your hair._ __es. Do you like it?_ __hat depends. How long is it?_ I pulled a curl down and showed him it ended just past my shoulder. He grunted, __hat__ still long enough, so I like it._ __ong enough for what?_ __ong enough for a man to run his hands through.

[Lizzie Bennington to a reporter who has asked for her opinion about Jack Archer's celebrated thighs.] __hen you come back from a set down and bring the match to a final set tiebreak and are a point away from winning the match, only to have what looks like an extremely fit player call a time out because of a cramp and then watch that player sit back and casually converse and laugh while you do your best to keep your mental focus and your body moving so you don__ grow cold and cramp yourself, I hardly think you__ concern yourself with his burgeoning manhood, let alone his thighs!

A million possible endearments ran through his head. But he said, __elp.