Bruce: Sometimes anticipation can heighten the... pleasure [growls] Grace: Oh! Bruce: It's a funny thing about pleasure. Grace: Wow. Bruce: It can be quite... [yells] Bruce: PLEASURABLE! Grace: [Bruce's mind control sexually arouses Grace; Grace falls to the toilet seat; chuckles] Oh, my God. Ooh. Bruce: [mind controlling arousing continutes] Pleasurable, pleasurable, pleasurable... Grace: Oh, God! [moaning] Grace: Oh, Good God!
Riyo: Did you tell the matchmaker about my parents? Aunt Sode: You mean, how they died? Of course not. [hands Riyo a picture] Aunt Sode: Matsuji is such a handsome man. He doesn't look like a sugar cane farmer! Riyo: [stares at the picture, then grabs the letter next to it and reads] When the mist covers the mountains, I'm reminded of the homeland. Yet, in this South Seas paradise, money is earned with ease, and the eternal fragrance of flowers is but another tropical blessing. In anticipation of your arrival, I'm inspired to write this haiku poem: "Lady Butterfly perfumes her wings by floating over this orchid." Aunt Sode: I'm worried about you working in the fields, but at least in Hawaii no one will no anything about yur past. That's why it's perfect. Far away, you can leave your past behind and start all over again. Riyo, maybe your luck is changing.
Remember the botched brothel-visit in L
The moment seemed endless, but it was probably only half that.
Anticipating pain was like enduring it twice. Why not anticipate pleasure instead?
Whereas during those months of separation time had never gone quickly enough for their liking and they were wanting to speed its flight, now that they were in sight of the town they would have liked to slow it down and hold each moment in suspense, once the breaks went on and the train was entering the station. For the sensation, confused perhaps, but none the less poingant for that, of all those days and weeks and months of life lost to their love made them vaguely feel they were entitled to some compensation; this present hour of joy should run at half the speed of those long hours of waiting.
Clouds out of control decoct anticipation. What use can any of us have for two moons? The miracle of order has run out and I am left in an unmiraculous city where anything may happen.
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