Quotes About Intimacy

Little wonder that when they sat with him, there was a waterfall of affection, lots of kisses and jokes and crouching by the side of the bed, holding hands.

He had a way of looking you in the eye and making you feel the world had stopped and you were all that was in it.

Holding her hand was like a key turning a tumbler. My body melted. My breath calmed. As the minutes passed, I seemed to get smaller. The heavens grew enormous. When a spread of glowing stars

Once, lovers on faraway shores sat by candlelight and dipped ink to parchment, writing words that could not be erased. They took an evening to compose their thoughts, maybe the next evening as well. When they mailed the letter, they wrote a name, a street, a city, and a country and they melted wax and sealed the envelope with a signet ring.

There are touches in your life that identify the person making contact, even if your eyes are closed.

I found I could share almost anything with Reb. He had a way of looking you in the eye and making you feel the world had stopped and you were all that was in it.

She hugged her arms around his chest and leaned her head into his shoulder. She did this every night, and like most small demonstrations of love, it had a large impact. Dor felt a surge of calm whenever she held him, like being wrapped in a blanket, and he knew no one else would ever love or understand him the way she did. He nestled his face into her long dark hair, and he breathed a way he never breathed except when he was with her.

Without being too blunt – you are a bachelor who lived with another bachelor for many years." "Purely platonic, I assure you.

Without being too blunt—you are a bachelor who lived with another bachelor for many years." "Purely platonic, I assure you." "If you say so.

Secrets make life more interesting. You can be in a crowded room with someone and touch them without touching, just with a look, because they know a part of you no one else knows. And whenever you're with them, the two of you are alone, because the you they see no one else can.

Secrets make life more interesting. You can be in a crowded room with someone and touch them without touching, just with a look, because they know a part of you no one else knows. And whenever you're with them, the two of you are alone, because the you they see no one else can see.

I have this thing about friends and secrets. Sometimes when I meet a person I like, I tell them a secret they don't know me well enough to be told. It lets me judge their potential as a friend.

He was a man who discovered love through his penis.

You know you're in trouble when you can't meet a woman's eye.

Mumtaz has six moles. Two are black: behind her ear and on her hip, in the trough of the wave that crests at her pelvis. Three are the color of rust: knuckle, corner of jaw, behind knee. And one is red, fiery, at the base of her spine, where a tail might grow. I touch them and know them because I watch her like a man in a field stares up at the stars, and I love her constellation because it contains her story and our story, and I wonder which mole is the beginning and which is the end.

Soon a rhythm was established, and it was thereafter rare that more than a few waking hours would pass without contact between them, and they found themselves in those early days of their romance growing hungry, touching each other, but without bodily adjacency, without release. They had begun, each of them, to be penetrated, but they had not yet kissed.

She slips her arm around my shoulders and cradles my head against her breast. We breathe together. Slowly. Time passes, flowing, a long, less and less painful sigh. And I shut my eyes. Pain becomes only physical again. Fear recedes. Anger flickers for a moment longer, gas in the pipes after the stove has been turned off. She says, "I'll take care of you." And I feel gratitude and happiness rise up inside me: old friends, long-forgotten and yet much missed.

Ozi made me feel so known. He made love to my insides, filling desperate gaps and calming unbearably sensitive places.

IN TIMES OF VIOLENCE, there is always that first acquaintance or intimate of ours, who, when they are touched, makes what had seemed like a bad dream suddenly, evisceratingly real

touching each other, but without bodily adjacency, without release. They had begun, each of them, to be penetrated, but they had not yet kissed.

But in his devotions was ever more devotion, and towards her it seemed there was ever less.

Avevano cominciato, entrambi, a essere penetrati, ma non si erano ancora dati un bacio.

Ogni volta che si spostano, due partner, se la loro attenzione è ancora rivolta l'uno verso l'altra, cominciano a vedersi in modo diverso, perché le personalità non hanno un unico immutabile colore, come il bianco o il blu, ma sono come schermi illuminati, e le sfumature che proiettiamo dipendono da ciò che ci circonda.

exceeded only by sex.