  " And Chantal revises her old metaphor:  it is not an immaterial,  poetic rose fragrance that passes through men but material,  prosaic salivas,  which move with their army of microbes from the mistress' mouth to her lover's,  from the lover to his wifem from the wifeto her baby,  from the baby to its aunt -  a waitress-
 to the customer whose sop she spat in,  from the customer to his wife,  from the wife to her lover,  and from there to other mouths and to others still,  so that everyone of us is immersed in a sea of salivas that blend and make us into one single community of salivas,  one humankind wet and bound together.  excerpts from Identity -  Milan Kundera This is a must read it now book!
