Book: Adultery. Page 2

... self-discipline has never been my strong suit, but you can't really behave like a lunatic?!

... I'm giving myself, crying in a voice, screaming and hollering in my car is the only place in the world where I feel safe.

... we instinctively seek to control everything, even what cannot be controlled: love and loyalty.

... to qualify for the invitation - well, and to make sure that your presence was duly noted, is even better.

... because love is simply and solely a sense is an art. And, as in any art, a little more than inspiration - you have to put a lot of work.

The meeting of a friend chirp about inexhaustible ardor of their husbands, and this is a shameless lie. And everyone knows about it but no one wants to lag behind others.

The trouble is that people tend to believe books and movies, where the couple are holding hands, the sea shore, staring at the sunset, and then (and daily) indulge in unrestrained passion in good hotels, in rooms with Alpine views. It was my husband, but the magic lasts a year or two.

Love can cope with the monotony, but for the passion of it is disastrous.

For all its to the extreme heightened sensory perception, women standing men.

He believes everything I say. And not because he is stupid - far from it - but because he trusts me.

The infidelity of men is rooted in its genetic system. And the woman is cheating because he has no dignity and effectively, giving your body, gives consistently and a part of my heart.

I spent so much time preparing to show himself a tiger, and I was used as a Mare. But that's life: reality is infinitely far from youthful romantic fantasies.

What a pleasure to cross all borders, break all the rules.

We both feared that if we ponder too much on this subject, can retreat, and because the decision was adopted without a long explanation how, what and why.