Quotes About Intimacy

Then, as on the night before, we lay down together and I proved how great our friendship had become.

She rises up out of a sea of faces and embraces me, embraces me passionately--- a thousand eyes, noses, fingers, legs, bottles, windows, purses, saucers all glaring at us an we in each other's arm oblivious. I sit down beside her and she talks--- a flood of talk. Wild consumptive notes of hysteria, perversion, leprosy. I hear not a word because she is beautiful and I love her and now I am happy and willing to die.

I want to get more familiar with you. I love you. I loved you when you came and sat on the bed--all that second afternoon was like warm mist--and I hear again the way you say my name--with that queer accent of yours. You arouse in me such a mixture of feelings, I don't know how to approach you. Only come to me--get closer and closer to me. It will be beautiful, I promise you.

You must be life for me to the very end, so he writes. That is the only way in which to sustain my idea of you. Because you have gotten, as you see, tied up with something so vital to me, I do not think I shall ever shake you off. Nor do I wish to. I want you to live more vitally every day, as I am dead. That is why, when I speak of you to others, I am just a bit ashamed. It's hard to talk of one's self so intimately

A good meal, a good talk, a good fuck--what better way to pass the day?

Living with a whore--even the best whore in the world--isn't a bed of roses.

She may be lying in bed reading a book, she may be making love with a prize fighter, or she may be running like mad through a field of stubble, one shoe one, one shoe off, a man named Corn Cob pursuing her hotly. Wherever she is I am standing in complete darkness; her absence blots me out.

Your nearness is the nearness of planets. I am the void between you. If I withdraw there will be no void for you to swim in.

Give me a few days of peace in your arms—I need it terribly. I'm ragged, worn, exhausted. After that I can face the world.

Yes, he knows how to build a fire, but I know how to inflame a cunt.

There's something depraved about screwing a woman who doesn't give a fuck about it. It heats your blood…" And then, after a moment's meditation— "Can you imagine what she'd be like if she had any feelings?

I am fucking you, Tania, so that you'll stay fucked.

I am not drunk, and I am not sentimental, and I tell you you are the most wonderful woman in the world.

Wine isn't strong enough. It's blood I want.

And her delicacy offended. Who wants a delicate whore! Claude would even ask you to turn your face away when she squatted over the bidet. All wrong! A man, when he's burning up with passion, wants to see things; he wants to see everything, even how they make water.

He falls on her lap and lies there quivering like a toothache

A man, when he's burning up with passion, wants to see things; he wants to see everything, even how they make water. And while it's all very nice to know that a woman has a mind, literature coming from the cold corpse of a whore is the last thing to be served in bed.

No matter how attached I became to a 'cunt', I was always more interested in the person who owned it. A cunt doesn't live a separate, independent existence. Nothing does. Everything is interrelated.

Las personas son como los piojos: se te meten bajo la piel y se entierran en ella.

Though I've known you a short time, I feel I know you intimately. Not your life but you, your emotions, your dreams, your aspirations.

When you get an erection you think you're passionate.

The other night I took her on—out of pity—and what do you think the crazy bitch had done to herself? She had shaved it clean… not a speck of hair on it. Did you ever have a woman who shaved her twat? It's repulsive, ain't it? And it's funny, too. Sort of mad like. It doesn't look like a twat any more: it's like a dead clam or something.

To make absolute, unconditional surrender to the woman one loves is to break every bond save the desire not to lose her, which is the most terrible bond of all.

She stood there waiting for me to approach, as though absolutely certain that I would take her by the arm and continue strolling down the avenue.