If this place is a meat market, you are the prime rib.

You’re like a dictionary — you add meaning to my life.

Do you have a map? ‘Cause I keep getting lost in your eyes.

Are you lost, ma’am? Because Heaven is a long way from here.

Pardon me, I think I may have dropped something. Oh — it was my jaw!

I’m having a party, and your pants are invited to come down.

You’re so hot that you must be the reason for global warming.

I may not be Fred Flintstone, but I can make your bed rock.

The only thing your eyes haven’t told me is your name.

I’m not drunk — you intoxicate me.