Quotes About Intimacy

However rare true love may be, it is less so than true friendship.

Dear Habicht, / Such a solemn air of silence has descended between us that I almost feel as if I am committing a sacrilege when I break it now with some inconsequential babble... / What are you up to, you frozen whale, you smoked, dried, canned piece of soul...?

Reading in bed is a self-centered act, immobile, free from ordinary social conventions, invisible to the world, and one that, because it takes place between the sheets, in the realm of lust and sinful idleness, has something of the thrill of things forbidden.

Only when, years later, I touched for the first time my lover's body did I realize that literature could sometimes fall short of the actual event.

But there is something other than entertainment which one derives from reading in bed: a particular quality of privacy. Reading in bed is a self-centred act, immobile, free from ordinary social conventions, invisible to the world, and one that, because it takes place between the sheets, in the realm of lust and sinful idleness, has something of the thrill of things forbidden.

Pero leer en la cama proporciona algo más que entretenimiento; brinda también una peculiar sensación de intimidad. Leer en la cama es un acto egocéntrico, inmóvil, libre de las ordinarias convenciones sociales, invisible para el mundo y que, como tiene lugar entre las sábanas, en el reino de la lascivia y la pereza pecaminosa, comparte algo de la emoción de las cosas prohibidas.

Hug me till you drug me, honey; Kiss me till I'm in a coma.

One touches and, in the act of touching, one's touched.

When one individual comes into intimate contact with another, she—or he, of course, as the case may be—must almost inevitably receive or inflict suffering.

Nothing is more dreadful than a cold, unimpassioned indulgence. And love infallibly becomes cold and unimpassioned when it is too lightly made.

We can only love what we know, and we can never know completely what we do not love. Love is a mode of knowledge…

She was like a permanent invasion of one's privacy.

That's one of the disadvantages of getting older; you're inclined to make intimate contacts with fewer people.

It must be pleasant, I should think, to hand oneself over to somebody else. It must give you a warm, splendid, comfortable feeling.

Family, monogamy, romance. Everywhere exclusiveness, a narrow channelling of impulse and energy.

he was breathing Lenina's perfume, filling his lungs with her essential being. His heart beat wildly; for a moment he was almost faint.

He was obscurely terrified lest she should cease to be something he could feel himself unworthy of.

After an outburst, she would settle down and try to love him as reasonably as she could, making the best of his kindness, his rather detached and separate passion, his occasional and laborious essays at emotional intimacy, and finally his intelligence - that quick, comprehensive, ubiquitous intelligence that could understand everything, including emotions it could not feel and the instincts it took care not to be moved by.

We can only love what we know, and we can never know completely what we do not love

For their sadness was a symptom of their love for one another—

Hug me till you drug me, honey; Kiss me till I'm in a coma: Hug me, honey, snuggly bunny; Love's as good as soma.

Hay algo que se desea más que una primera noche pasada junto a una amante: una segunda

All I have to say is, people no longer know how to love nowadays.

Tutto quello che c'era io l'ho visto guardando te. E sono stata ovunque, stando con te. E' una cosa che non riuscirò mai a spiegare a nessuno, ma è così. Me la porterò dietro e sarà il mio segreto più bello.