Quotes About Intimacy

All sorts of pieces of music are constantly being described as 'sexy', but that doesn't necessarily mean that you'd want them to accompany lovemaking. Most of them, in fact, are sexual substitutes, rather than sexual accompaniments – music for people who aren't getting any (or won't be until they get home) rather than people who are.

There aren't too many candlelit dinners and second honeymoons, I can tell you. We're beyond all that. We're good friends more than anything.

If I could have all of those things, I wouldn't mind if I touched her or not.

It was funny how you could still know little things about people, like where they kept their tin, even though you didn't know what they were thinking from one week to the next.

Love meant being brave, otherwise you had already lost your own argument: the man who couldn't tell a woman he loved her was, by definition, not worthy of her.

I'm beginning to feel more embarrassed about the conversation than about anything we've just done. Horny? They really use that word? Jesus. All my life I've wanted to go to bed with an American, and now I have, and I'm beginning to see why people don't do it more often. Apart from Americans, that is, who probably go to bed with Americans all the time.

There were about seventy-nine squillion people in the world, and if you were very lucky, you would end up being loved by fifteen or twenty of them. So

Sometimes I got so bored of trying to touch her breasts that I would try to touch her between her legs, a gesture that had a sort of self-parodying wit about it: it was like trying to borrow a fiver, getting turned down, and asking to borrow fifty quid instead. These

He was beginning to wonder whether June's facility, and their shared interest, might serve them better in the long run than a passionate sexual relationship that would eventually die on them.

It's a funny thing, sex, she said. It's a little thing like a glass of water is a little thing. Or something that falls off a car and only costs a couple of bob to replace. It's only a little thing, but nothing works without it.

Lucy se dio cuenta de que ninguno de los dos había dicho la frase «Te quiero», y sin embargo cada uno había encontrado el modo de decirle al otro que lo quería. Parecía un buen modo de terminar.

She understood Paul from the inside out, two kids, nine or ten parents' evenings, eleven or twelve Christmases, eight or nine holidays in France, five seasons of The Wire, however many hundred fucks and takeaways. (Could it be thousands? Four figures if you added the fucks and the takeaways together, probably, although there was no earthly reason why you would.)

Als je hem voor de Nacht Zonder Jazz zou hebben gevraagd waar hij gelukkig van werd, dan zou hij niet goed hebben begrepen hoe relevant die vraag was. Nu wist hij het antwoord: naar bed gaan met Lucy, eten bij Lucy, tv-kijken met Lucy. En misschien zat daar geen toekomst in, maar het was het heden, en daar bestaat het leven uit.

I loved him.' 'You didn't know him.' 'Of course I knew him. I listened to him sing every single day. The things he sings about, that's him. I know him better than I know you. He understood me.

What it was really about was people not having sex when they wanted it. A lot of British comedy was about that, Barbara had noticed.

A night in the arms of Venus, it was said, led to a lifetime on Mercury.

A half-open window. Morning-fresh air carries curious sunlight into a bedroom. Flecks of dust shimmer yellow-gold. Four feet, entwined under white sheets. Joni's Blue, on the player. Delicate curtains slow-dance to Sunday's tune. Laughter. Talk of: what for breakfast? Anything. Anything at all.

She watched her lover in silence; words would have been too big, too solid for what they had done together.

I am here to love you, to hold you in my arms, to protect you. I am here to learn from you and to receive your love in return. I am here because there is no other place to be.

because even more than wanting to hold her or kiss her, he simply ached to see her again. To spend time with her. To talk to her. He wanted to watch her roll her eyes when he said something ridiculous, he wanted to feel her hand on his arms like the day before. he wanted to watch her nervously tuck strands of hair behind her ear,and listen as she told him about her childhood. he wanted to ask her about her dreams and hopes for the future, to know her secrets.

Whether you're in bed or in court, everybody gets off.

I believe it is love, but how does one tell?" Her friend's gaze grew thoughtful. "The signs are usually recognizable. When you love a man, he becomes the center of your world. You yearn to be with him, and when you are not, he is constantly on your mind. He brightens your day. His simplest touch sparks passion in you... a tender look fires a warmth in your heart. Life feels empty without him.

In her own uniquely spirited way, she had pierced his armor and burrowed unerringly into his heart

This isn't kissing. This is savoring your taste.