Quotes About Intimacy

But some day I'm going to find somebody and love him and love him and never let him go.

They seemed nearer, not only mentally, but physically when they read ... Their chance was to make everything fine and finished and rich and imaginative; they must bend tiny golden tentacles from his imagination to hers, that would take the place of the great, deep love that was never so near, yet never so much of a dream.

I want to do everything in the world with you.

He had no plans, no definite intentions, except to kiss her lips again, to hold her in his arms.

If I hurt your feelings we ought to discuss it. I don't like this kiss-and-forget.' 'But I don't want to argue. I think it's wonderful that we can kiss and forget, and when we can't it'll be time to argue.

She wouldn't let go of the letter. She took it into the tub with her and squeezed it up in a wet ball, and only let me leave it in the soap dish when she saw that it was coming to pieces like snow.

Stahr's eyes and Kathleen's met and tangled. For an instant they made love as no one ever dares to do after. Their glance was slower than an embrace, more urgent than a call.

They were still in the happier stages of love. They were full of brave illusions about each other, tremendous illusions, so that the communion of self with self seemed to be on a plane where no other human relations mattered.

He kissed her because it came about quite naturally; he found sweetness sleeping still upon her lips, and felt that he had never been away.

Her bedroom had seemed so pink and young and delicate, appropriate to her pastel-shaded lingerie tossed here and there on chair and bed.

Suddenly he was inside the radius of her perfume and kissing her breathlessly.

Once we were one person, and always it will be a little that way.

Their eyes met, locked, became wistful, and dreamy and beautiful.

Of the things they possessed in common, greatest of all was their almost uncanny pull at each others hearts.

Incessantly she puzzled him: one hour so intimate and charming, striving desperately toward an unguessed, transcendent union; the next, silent and cold, apparently unmoved by any consideration of their love or anything he could say.

No, interrupted Marcia emphatically. And you're a sweet boy. Come here and kiss me. Horace stopped quickly in front of her. Why do you want me to kiss you? he asked intently. Do you just go round kissing people? Why, yes, admitted Marcia, unruffled. 'At's all life is. Just going around kissing people.

Their hands touched for an instant, but neither spoke. Silences were becoming more frequent and more delicious.

Don't ever phone if you can possibly come yourself. Don't ever leave if you can stay.

While the rain continued it had seemed like the murmur of their voices, rising and swelling a little now and then with gusts of emotion.

As we passed over the dark bridge her wan face fell lazily against my coat's shoulder and the formidable stroke of thirty died away with the reassuring pressure of her hand.

He had never met a girl like this before - she would never seem quite the same again. He didn't at all feel like a character in a play, the appropriate feeling in an unconventional situation - instead, he had a sense of coming home.

As he held her and tasted her, and she curved in further and further toward him, with her own lips, new to herself, drowned and engulfed in love, yet solaced and triumphant, he was thankful to have an existence at all, if only as a reflection in her wet eyes.

He felt that if he had a love he would have hung her picture just facing the tub so that, lost in the soothing steamings of the hot water, he might lie and look up at her and muse warmly and sensuously on her beauty.

He drew her very tenderly close and their lips met like starved hearts.