Quotes About Intimacy

Because he was so critical, so severe, so suspicious of her, she became secretive and lying. She would never say what she really thought. She was afraid of him.

Sink your lips in my skin (a needle penetrating silk.)

Down the rusty bars of ladders to the undergrounds of the night propitious to the first man and woman at the beginning of the world. where there were no words by which to possess each other, no music for serenades, no presents to court with, no tournaments to impress and force a yielding, no secondary instruments, no adornments, necklaces, crowns to subdue, but only one ritual, a joyous, joyous, joyous, joyous, impaling of a woman on a man´s sensual mast

He is a genius and yet he is too explicit. June slips between his fingers. You cannot possess without loving.

There are two ways to reach me: by way of kisses or by way of the imagination. But there is a hierarchy: the kisses alone don't work.

Es fácil crear la ilusión del amor. El otro te ayuda.

She only believed in intimacy and proximity, in confessions born in the darkness of a bedroom, in quarrels born of alcohol, in communions born of exhausting walks through the city. She only believed in those words which came like the confessions of criminals after long exposure to hunger, to intense lights, to cross-questioning, to violent tearing away of masks.

What does is mean that you have not written me?... Am I a dream to you, am I not real and warm for you? What new loves, new ecstasies, new impulses move you now?

He placed his mouth on her throat, kissing the words she could not utter. He seemed to divine where she wanted a kiss to fall next, what part of her body demanded to be warmed.

Sometimes she answered, 'My mouth wants you, I want to feel you in my mouth, way down in my mouth.' Other times she answered, 'I am moist between the legs.

I have dreamed of that over and over—I dancing with you, or you alone dancing with head thrown back and eyes half shut.

Yes, Anaïs, I want to demask you. I am too gallant with you. I want to look at you long and ardently, pick up your dress, fondle you, examine you. Do you know I have scarcely looked at you? There is still too much sacredness clinging to you.

Yes, Anaïs, I was thinking how I could betray you, but I can't. I want you. I want to undress you, vulgarize you a bit—ah

I hope you never marry a man you don't love sexually. That is what I have done. I love everything about him, the way he behaves, his face, his body, the way he works, treats me, his thoughts, his way of smiling, talking, everything except the sexual man in him. I thought I did, before we married.

You are like me, wishing for such perfect moments, and frightened for fear of spoiling them.

At night too, she puzzled at the mystery of her desperate need for kindness. As other girls prayed for handsomeness in a lover, or for wealth, or for power, or for poetry, she had prayed fervently: let him be kind.

Ich liebe dein Schweigen, es ist wie meines. Du bist das einzige Wesen, in dessen Gegenwart ich mich wegen meines eigenen Schweigens nicht beunruhigt fühle. Du besitzt ein ungestümes Schweigen, man fühlt, dass es von Inhalten erfüllt ist. Es ist seltsam lebendiges Schweigen, wie der geöffnete Deckel eines Brunnens, aus dem man das geheimnisvolle Murmeln der Erde vernehmen kann.

It doesn't matter what you said that night. I want you from me to have the experience of being loved.) [Anaïs]

When Henry telephones, I feel his voice in my veins. I want him to talk into me. I want him to talk into me. I eat Henry, I breathe Henry, Henry is in the sun. My cape is his arm around my waist.

When Henry telephones, I feel his voice in my veins. I want him to talk into me. I eat Henry, I breathe Henry, Henry is the sun. My cape is his arm around my waist.

Transpira, straluceste. Nu pot s-o ascund. Sunt femeie. Un barbat m-a facut sa ma supun. O, bucuria unei femei cand gaseste un barbat caruia sa i se supuna, bucuria feminitatii ei inflorind in brate puternice!

He deseado poseerla como si un hombre fuera, pero he querido también que me amara con los ojos, con las manos, con los sentidos que sólo poseen las mujeres. Es una penetración suave y sutil.

Las dos hemos perdido la cabeza –le dije–, pero a veces cuando más cosas revelamos de nosotros mismos menos somos nosotros mismos. Yo ya no intento pensar. Cuando estoy contigo me es imposible. Tú eres como yo, esperando que se presente el momento perfecto, aunque nada de lo que se ha imaginado durante demasiado tiempo puede llegar a ser perfecto en un sentido terrenal.

Both of us had one inviolate self we never gave. It was our dreaming self. Now we have invaded this world in each other. She is too rich to be fully known in a few days. She says I am too rich for her. […] Her idealism is so demanding. It awes me. With her I feel timelessness.