Quotes About Intimacy

I felt her loss in a powerfully physical way. I missed her smell and the sticky wet of her breath on my neck. I missed her fingers scratching through my hair. We sat next to each other, lay across each other, pushed, pulled, stroked, and struck each other a hundred times a day and I suffered the deprivation of this. It was an ache, a hunger on the surface of my skin.

A few brief, paltry kisses after so long apart, it wasn't enough. It was a single sip of water offered to a man dying of thirst. He hungered

He wanted to know her with such familiarity that he could curve his fingers around a wrist, an ankle, a knee and recognize her from a hundred, a thousand other women

El emparejamiento de los cuerpos no llevaba necesariamente a la unión de las mentes.

To you." He kissed her mouth, then nipped her lower lip lightly. "With you, for you. In you.

I want you to know that this is what happens when you meet the person you are supposed to spend the rest of your life with: that restless feeling dissolves like butter.

She took him for granted sometimes. That was the luxury of a long marriage. But she knew that she loved him. She needed him. He was the anchor that kept her from drifting away.

His words hung between them, and Faith tried to pin down when exactly their relationship had gone from cooly professional to personal. There was something so kind about him under his awkward manners and social ineptness. Despite her best intentions, Faith realised that she could not hate Will Trent.

Yeah?" "I miss the way you taste." She tried to sound bored. "It's still Colgate." "That's not the taste I was talking about.

That's what love is, Sara, when there are so many things about you that you only want one person in the world to know.

I want you to know that this is what happens when you meet the person you are supposed to spend the rest of your life with: that restless feeling dissolves like butter. I

My wife is for making babies. You're for fucking." The sting was unexpected. "That's an awful thing to say." "Trust me, one is a lot more fun than the other.

She would never feel another man's touch without wondering whether or not she could really trust him.

He was safe because she would never really give all of herself to him.

Kate's knees felt shaky as she walked across the parking garage under the Barbizon Hotel. Every atom in her body was vibrating at a different frequency. Her lips felt swollen from Philip's kisses. Her breasts were tender from his mouth. If she closed her eyes, she could summon up the sensations of his tongue roaming up and down her body.

And then she had suggested that instead of going to the barber, they go into the bedroom and do something so filthy that Will had experienced a few seconds of hysterical blindness.

She took him for granted sometimes. That was the luxury of a long marriage.

More women are murdered by their intimate partners than by any other group.

She asked him, "Everything all right?" "It's good right now." He rubbed her back with his hand. "What did the shrink say?" Claire waited until the bartender had returned to his corner. "She said that I'm not being forthcoming about my emotions." "That's not like you at all." They smiled at each other. Another old argument that wasn't worth having anymore.

I want you to know what it's like to fall in love with somebody, to stay awake at night thinking you're going to die if you don't have them. All he could say was, I've stayed awake plenty of nights thinking about you. Worrying about me, she corrected. I'm not an old pair of shoes you can wear for the rest of your life just because they're comfortable.

that was more than love. That was being in love. It was so tangible I could almost touch it with my hands. I could bite it with my teeth.

Cash was like sex. You didn't talk about it unless you weren't getting enough of it.

If you love without evoking love in return - if through the vital expression of yourself as a loving person you fail to become a loved person, then your love is impotent, it is a misfortune.

If you love without evoking love in return—that is, if your loving as loving does not produce reciprocal love; if through a living expression of yourself as a loving person you do not make yourself a loved person, then your love is impotent— a misfortune.