“He had just about enough intelligence to open his mouth when he wanted to eat, but certainly no more.”

“I saw him open his mouth wide… as though he had wanted to swallow all the air, all the earth, all the men before him.”

“He let his mouth linger on mine, neither possessively nor sweetly… like his mouth just belonged there on mine. And he was right. It did. It always had.”

“Eisenhower had about the most expressive face I ever painted, I guess. Just like an actor's. Very mobile. When he talked, he used all the facial muscles. And he had a great, wide mouth that I liked. When he smiled, it was just like the sun came out.”

“He always lived in his head. He never cared about how things were, only how they would be, someday, when he had everything he wanted. When we had everything we wanted.”

“The kiss that was pressed against his own mouth was reverent, the contact no heavier than the warm, still air in the room. It was the consummate lover’s kiss, the kind of thing he had wanted even more than the hot sex they’d just had.”

“I’m not strong enough for this,” he whispered in her ear—like he didn’t want anyone to hear that coming out of his mouth. Ever. Running her hands up his powerful back, she held him just as hard. “But I am.”

“He knew he had no right to touch her, crave her like air, but he did both. And when he put his mouth on hers, he recognized the taste of her, like she'd been made just for him.”

“But perhaps he had enough animal strength and detached intelligence that he could make another start.”

“The test of a real comedian is whether you laugh at him before he opens his mouth.”