Quotes About Intimacy

When you truly start to care about someone you become vulnerable to all sorts of things.

Touch is a freaky thing when you're not used to it. It makes you feel all kinds of things.

Close enough to feel it, but not close enough to burn.

When he took her in his arms, it suddenly didn't seem to matter what was going on outside of their tiny, sealed universe. In these terminal minutes of their current lives, it was just the two of them finally, finally giving in to their ultimate act of completion. The binary at last becoming the one.

I love you, Risa, he says. Every last part of me.

I love you, Brew. No you don't, he said. Just shut up and take it, I told him. He smiled. Okay.

A scythe could share their bed with anyone, but their life with no one.

I would love to be your first," she says. "You can do that, can't you? I mean you're . . . complete, right?" "More than complete," he tells her. "In fact, I have three." She just stares at him dumbfounded, and he decides not to tell her he's joking.

Here, here, seconded Scythe Rand. You can come to my room and break my neck any time.

her teeth, because he puts his arm around her.

Listen, my dear-- with soft step the night hears.

The act of love greatly resembles torture or surgery.

Our close reunion will create poetry. Between us we shall make a god.

Ce qu'il y a d'ennuyeux dans l'amour, c'est que c'est un crime où l'on ne peut pas se passer d'un complice.

Viens, mon beau chat, sur mon coeur amoureux; Retiens les griffes de ta patte, Et laisse-moi plonger dans tes beaux yeux, Mêlés de métal et d'agate.

To creep softly, like a coward, toward the treasures of your body, to whip your joyous flesh?

Laisse-moi mordre longtemps tes tresses lourdes et noires. Quand je mordille tes cheveux élastiques et rebelles, il me semble que je mange des souvenirs.

Of course it's possible to love a human being if you don't know them too well.

in that drunken place you would like to hand your heart to her and say touch it but then give it back.

And yet women-good women--frightened me because they eventually wanted your soul, and what was left of mine, I wanted to keep.

I want to let her know though that all the nights sleeping beside her even the useless arguments were things ever splendid and the hard words I ever feared to say can now be said: I love you.

you son of a bitch, she said, I am trying to build a meaningful relationship. you can't build it with a hammer, he said.

I will remember your small room, the feel of you, the light in the window, your records, your books, our morning coffee, our noons, our nights, our bodies spilled together, sleeping, the tiny flowing currents, immediate and forever. Your leg, my leg, your arm, my arm, your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again.

I will remember the kisses, our lips raw with love, and how you gave me everything you had and how I offered you what was left of me.