Quotes About Intimacy

My passion for Sarah had killed simple lust forever. Never again would I be able to enjoy a woman without love.

If two people loved, they slept together; it was a mathematical formula, tested and proved by human experience.

I have no need to write to you or talk to you, you know everything before I can speak, but when one loves, one feels the need to use the same old ways one has always used. I know I am only beginning to love, but already I want to abandon everything, everybody but you: only fear and habit prevent me.

I had never known her before and I had never loved her so much. The more we know the more we love, I thought.

He was like a child with haemophilia: every contact drew blood.

I had committed myself: without love I'd have to go through the gestures of love.

Of course,' I said, 'you know her so much better than I ever did.' In some ways,' he said gloomily, and I knew he was thinking of the very ways in which I had known her the best.

He put his mouth on her and kissed her on the cheek; he was afraid of the mouth-thoughts travel too easily from lip to lip.

But if I start believing that, then I have to believe in your God. I'd have to love your God. I'd rather love the men you slept with.

I wondered whether she would consent to sleep with me that night if Pyle never came, but I knew that when I had smoked four pipes I would no longer want her.

Feeling her against me, I was reminded of desire. Would that always be the case now—not desire, but only the reminder of it?

Married people grow like each other.

Intimacy with one person could do this-empty the world of friendships, give a distaste for women's kisses and their bright chatter, make the ordinary world a little unreal and very uninteresting.

The act of lust and the act of love are the same; it cannot be falsified like a sentiment.

A frigid woman is never jealous, you simply haven't caught up yet on ordinary human emotions.

She was his like a table or a chair, but a table owned you, too - by your fingerprints.

At the end of what is called the sexual life the only love which has lasted is the love which has everything, every disappointment, every failure and every betrayal, which has accepted even the sad fact that in the end there is no desire so deep as the simple desire for companionship.

I didn't lover her, and she certainly didn't love me, but perhaps in a way we could have made a life together.

Perhaps soon the two of them would grow accustomed to each other and guilt would come to eat out of his hand.

and heads close together like parrots

I wanted her mind, now I wanted to read her thoughts, but they were hidden away in a language I couldn't speak.

She had so much more capacity for love than I had - I couldn't bring down that curtain round the moment, I couldn't forget and I couldn't not fear. Even in the moment of love, I was like a police officer gathering evidence of a crime that hadn't yet been committed [...]

She had so much more capacity for love than I had. I couldn't bring that curtain round the moment, I couldn't forget and I couldn't not fear.

Because I couldn't bear the thought of her so much as touching another man, I feared it all the time, and I saw intimacy in the most casual movement of her hand.