Quotes About Intimacy

But then she just got tired of hating him and started loving him again. It was easier.

Baths, she thought, were just like her relationships, all "ooh, ah" in the beginning and then suddenly, without warning, she had to get out, out, out!

How could she not be with someone forever when even their feet-his huge, not especially attractive feet, with their long hairy toes-felt like home?

If she was handing over a slice of her heart, she wanted the exact same size given back in return. Actually, she really preferred a bigger piece, thank you very much.

It wasn't logical, but the better you knew someone, the more blurry they became. The accumulation of facts made them disappear.

It was strange, because she always felt that she hid herself from Erika, that she was more 'herself' with her 'true' friends, where the friendship flowed in an ordinary, uncomplicated, grown-up fashion (emails, phone calls, drinks, dinners, banter and jokes that everyone got), but right now it felt like none of those friends knew her the raw, ugly, childish, basic way that Erika did.

Early love is exciting and exhilarating. It's light and bubbly. Anyone can love like that. But love after three children, after a separation and a near-divorce, after you've hurt each other and forgiven each other, bored each other and surprised each other, after you've seen the worst and the best—well, that sort of a love is ineffable. It deserves its own word.

But women like Tess didn't seem to have that need to share the ordinary facts of their lives, and that made Cecilia desperate to know them.

Everyone knew that a stolen kiss was the most erotic thing in the world.

You weren't meant to admit, even to yourself, how badly you wanted love. The man was meant to be the icing, not the cake.

It was interesting how a marriage instantly became public property as soon as it looked shaky.

It was why marriages fell apart. It was why, if you valued your marriage, you kept a barricade around yourself and your feelings and your thoughts. You didn't let your eyes linger. You didn't stay for the second drink. You kept the flirting safe. You just didn't go there.

It sometimes seemed so peculiar and so wrong that you could be that intimate with someone, to go to sleep with him and wake up with him, to do really quite extraordinarily personal things together on a regular basis, and then, suddenly, you don't even know his telephone number, or where he's living or working, or what he did today or last week or last year.

She wanted to hug him and at the same time she kind of wanted to slap him.

as their eyes met she got that feeling again, that sensation of there being something huge between them, something she couldn't quite define, something her twenty-year-old self might have called 'passion' and her thirty-year-old self might have more cynically called 'chemistry'.

He made her happy and maede her laugh. She still enjoyed talking with him, watching TV with him, lying in bed with him on cold, rainy mornings. She still wanted him.

But even while he is frustrated with her, or hurt by her, or plain irritated by her, he still loves her, he still has a secret crush on her, he is still awed that someone this beautiful is with him.

But love after you've hurt each other and forgiven each other, bored each other and surprised each other, after you've seen the worst and the best – that sort of a love is ineffable. It deserves its own word.

They had made love for the first time just the other night at his place. The children were with her mother. (The night before she hit her head.) It was beautiful. Well, okay, it was awkward. (For example, he seemed to think he should lick her toes. Where had he got such an idea? It tickled unbearably, and she accidentally kicked him in the nose.)

It was interesting how a marriage instantly became public property as soon as it looked shaky. She

It wasn't always necessary to tell your husband the whole story.

She hadn't realized that you could spend your whole life looking at the people you loved in an oblique, halfhearted way, as if you were deliberately blurring your vision, until something like this happened, and then just looking at that person could be terrifying.

They could fall in love with fresh new people, or they could have the courage and humility to tear off some essential layer of themselves and reveal to each other a whole new level of 'otherness', a level far beyond what sort of music they liked.

I'm using you to help me not think about my husband,' she clarified. She wanted him to understand. 'Tess. Honey. Do you think I don't I don't know that?' Then he kissed her so deeply and so completely that she felt like she was falling, floating, spiraling down, down, down, like Alice in Wonderland.