When I was seventeen, I read a quote that went something like: “If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you’ll most certainly be right.” It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past thirty-three years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: “If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?” And whenever the answer has been “No” for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

kissing is so erotic? loving gaze is so erotic? slow dancing in the ambience of candlelight with smiles on your faces is so erotic? the more i remove myself from sex, the more i indulge in the inherent eroticism of other forms of physical touch, sometimes even the absence of them