Quotes About Intimacy

The pain that we feel when we are making love with someone is that we know it will end. It's that paradoxical response of joy and suffering.

Community is extremely intimate. When we talk about humor, I love that you know when you're home because there is laughter in the room, there is humor, there is shorthand. That is about community.

Immerse your soul in love.

There are wonders in true affection. It is a body of enigmas, mysteries, and riddles, wherein two so become one, as they both become two.

Look how the blue-eyed violets glance love to one another.

Of love it may be said, the less earthly the less demonstrative. In its absolutely indestructible form it reaches a profundity in which all exhibition of itself is painful.

A great deal of love given to a few is better than a little to many.

Even then, at nine years old, I wanted to live inside her body. I wanted to melt into her bones - THAT kind of love.

...his love was too much for him, he felt paralyzed, he wanted to sleep inside her lungs and breathe her blood and be smothered.

Now that I'm in love, I haven't a clue. Now that I'm in love, I'm completely stupid on the subject.

…he glanced over his shoulder at her, regarding her, as he often did before they made love, as if she were a lost continent about to be rediscovered.

Eighty percent of love is smell.

You looked at me then like you knew me, and I thought it really was Eden, and I couldn't take your eyes in because I was loving the hoof marks on your cheeks.

I think doing love scenes is never easy without a strong emotional background.

Sometimes it's the things that are all around us that are hardest to see, especially love.

It isn't hard to be in a relationship because I've always loved to be in a relationship, and I love to be in love.

I am sacred when you love me. I am your sanctuary, you are mine.

To pay compliments to the one we love is the first method of caressing, a demi-audacity venturing. A compliment is something like a kiss through a veil.

In love, such a word, whispered, is a mysterious kiss of the soul to the soul.

There is no rapture in the love which is prompted by esteem; such affection is lasting, not passionate.

When two mouths, made sacred by love, draw near to each other to create, it is impossible, that above that ineffable kiss there should not be a thrill in the immense mystery of the stars.

There's nothing more human than two people making love.

An unmanly sort of man whose love life seems to have been largely confined to crying in laps and playing mouse.

Her tears were partly tears of happiness, for she felt that the strangeness between them was gone. She loved him now with a new love because he had made her suffer.