Quotes About Intimacy

Familiar acts are beautiful through love. Percy Bysse Shelley

Emotional fuckwittage

Men don't need linguistic talent; they just need courage and words.

When a marriage works, nothing on earth can take its place.

sometimes, we touch each other. No one else gets that close to me. He behaves

With her right index finger she slowly spells words on Grace's skin. Don't let me go crazy. The moon is pale and vast. The stars so sharp they almost hurt.

I can feel the heat blossoms on your skin.

I know for me the subject of how to be in a relationship is precious and complicated and challenging.

A skirt is no obstacle to extemporaneous sex, but it is physically impossible to make love to a girl while she is wearing trousers.

Whatever else can be said about sex, it cannot be called a dignified performance.

Hands are for other human hands to hold.

Human hands are for holding other hands. Human arms are for holding other humans close.

There were days when he touched the tip of her nose and it was enough, a miracle of plenty.

His voice in my ear. It did interesting things to me. It curved my back and parted my lips. I felt lazy and feline, and he wasn't even in the room.

what they'd been afraid of was running out of self. On the contrary the more they loved the more there was to love.

I am here, reading with you. I am reading this over your shoulder. I make your home home, I'm the Braille on your wallpaper that only your fingers can read—I tell you where you are. Don't turn to look at me. I am only tangible when you don't look.

I'd have liked for him to say my name again, though. You know how it is when someone says your name really well, like it means something that makes the world a better place.

Do you think that maybe we're able to love someone best when that person doesn't know how we feel?

I was learning the ways of the world; one of them being that the presence of a certain type of curly-haired man - your type - will cause you to fidget and fidget until the only way to reach some level of calm is to touch him.

What do you want, Mary Foxe? My husband?" "I believe in him," she said slowly. I wondered if she'd ever told him that, and if so, what he had to say about it. Someone you made up turns around and tells you they believe in you— what response could you possibly make? The scenario is just plain weird. And really kind of impertinent on her part, too. If it happened to me I think I'd be speechless for the rest of my life.

But Jess was sliding breathlessly down into the waiting sky, so she couldn't find the words to tell TillyTilly that sisters was something about being held without hands, and the skin-flinch of seeing and simultaneously being seen.

All through dinner Arturo and I held hands under the table like a couple of kids, and that made the dinner quite wonderful, even though Mrs. Fletcher kept staring at Olivia as though committing her to memory. It got so bad that Olivia turned to her husband and said: "Has it happened at last, Gerald? Have I become a curiosity?

There were days when she'd open her eyes and be him for six hours in a row; she knew all his secrets and nothing he had done seemed wrong to her, she knew how it was, how things had been, she was there. There were days when he touched the tip of her nose and it was enough, a miracle of plenty. But who finds happiness interesting?

It seemed that every time Miranda looked at Eliot he had some of that bread in his mouth—with Luc's champagne marmalade, or mackerel, or honey, or butter.