Rory: Okay, what about this? "Where is the chair you sit in? Where is your favorite comb, your toothbrush, your nail file? Trot them out, that I may devour them at one gulp."
Lane: You want to eat his toothbrush?
Rory: No, I'm trying to convey that I miss him very much.
Lane: Sounds like you miss his toiletry kit.
Rory: It's supposed to be metaphorical and evocative. It's Henry Miller.
Lane: Henry Miller has better stuff than that. Believe me, that is not why they banned his books.
Rory: Well, I'm not gonna write, "Our hands groped frantically for the burning flesh."
Lane: Oh, that's better. That's way hotter than the eating-his-comb thing.