Quotes About Intimacy

Qui pouvait comprendre cela ? Personne. C'était un combat intime. Le plus invisible de tous. Le plus lancinant aussi.

Phones, text messages, screens, chats, and e-mails... I didn't want these imaginary borders on my map of Tendre anymore. I'd given; I'd suffered; I'd paid for my share of all these half-assed, absurd, naive plans imposed on us by love in the digital age.

How could you let yourself be sidetracked while I was waiting for your breath on my back?

My son, remember that a woman with a secret may be a fascinating study, but she can never be a safe, nor even satisfactory, companion.

How intimately I experience in my heart just what he must have felt in all of those unknown rooms, some of them poor, perhaps, and some splendid, but all opposing him with the cold fearful indifference of other people's belongings, against which he has to defend himself as best he can with his poor lonely trunk and his case of books.

But he had held her hand, he had looked into her face in the dark hall, and a strange ecstatic entrancement had come over her, as though she would like to stand there forever, just feeling her hand in his. The extraordinary comfort that filled her heart because of that contact with another human being! She knew that she must feel it again, that, like a drug-taker, she would never be satisfied until she had repeated that unique and trance-like sensation.

Come on, Lizbet, that man adores you, he worships your body with his eyes.

their drinks and headed for the back room. It stank of beer and cigarettes. But at least it was empty, apart from the pool table and a few old-fashioned wooden chairs and three tables next to some wall seating. 'That's better.' Rosie plonked herself on a chair, and they sat with their backs to the wall. She leaned across the table, looking from one to the other. 'So. You were saying

Loneliness sends you into your body instead of your brain.

kissing is good for the skin.

Kissing is a means of getting two people so close together that they can't see anything wrong with each other." —RENE YASENEK

It's also at that moment that I realize I am able to maintain the level of judgmentalness that I so cherish only because I have someone in my life who knows me so well and still manages to love me. Isn't that what love is? Knowing someone's life story and not using it against them? OK, maybe it's more like knowing someone's life story, using it against them, and still loving them.

One of the reasons Sulfur didn't date very much was that they couldn't help falling a little bit in love with anyone who gave them an orgasm. It was exhausting and practically never led anywhere good.

The curio, denoting a piece of bric-a-brac from the Far East since the mid-nineteenth century and a shortened form of the word curiosity, already draws something from the enchanted transformation of ornamentalism: the thing that becomes Thing—but, alas, never quite free from a threatening intimacy with its original status as a mere thing.24 This uneasy fluctuation between value and waste always haunts the curio, which is to say, haunts the "Oriental thing.

He watched her, listened to her, and knew she was truly asleep. He kissed her forehead and found the act pleasing for its own sake. And, he admitted as he licked his lips, it was enjoyable for other reasons. Meg wasn't bitable, but he really did like the taste of her.

The sweatshirt was big on her and she looked ridiculous. He liked it. And he liked that she was wearing something that carried his scent.

He gave the side of her head a quick lick before she squealed and ducked away from him. Tasted like Meg. Felt like puppy fuzz. Too bad he couldn't hold her down and give her a proper grooming like he used to do with Sam.

Do you trust me?" [Daemon] snapped. "Yes." No hesitation, no doubts. He finally stopped moving and faced her. "Do you know how desperately I love you?" [Janelle's] voice shook when she answered, "As much as I love you?" He held her, held on to her as his lifeline, his anchor. It would be all right. As long as he had her, it would be all right.

She swallowed hard. "I want to try skinny-dipping." He was so still, she wasn't sure he was even breathing.

As they walked toward the group waiting for them by the cars, Simon's hand brushed against Meg's. He hesitated for a step or two; then he took her hand, ready to release her if she growled an objection. But after a startled look, she smiled and curled her fingers around his.

Yes, I am," he said softly. "That's the way I was. That's the way I could be again." He shook his head as he raised his hand, his fingertips touching her hair. "I want to be your lover. I chose to be your lover. That makes all the difference. Being in bed with you is like soaring on a sweet wind. I chose to be your lover, Marian . . . just as you chose to be mine.

He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and massaged gently. "Listen to me, Cat, because I'll only say this once. You're the finest Lady I've ever met and the dearest friend I've ever had. Besides that, I love you like a brother, and any bastard who hurts my little sister is going to answer to me.

He kissed the spot where her neck and shoulder joined. The first kiss was light and chaste. With the second kiss, he used his teeth to hold her still while the tip of his tongue caressed and tasted her skin. He could feel her heart pounding, feel each breathy pant. Leaving a trail of soft kisses up her neck, he finally whispered in her ear, "You're not too young anymore.

Simon's relationship with Meg was too complex for anything as simple as sex.