Quotes About Intimacy

Gods, I love it when you talk mathy to me.

But first, a wave of laughter rising from the two women who visually embrace each other, as women do, who can talk at the ring of a doorbell about underwear, & breasts, & menstrual cycles, & the women connect, & can fall into each other lives and arms so quickly.

Immeasurable space. Closeness. The shortest distance between two women.

the Judas spirit always want intimacy without covenant!

We live in a culture that desires intimacy without responsibility and pleasure without commitment.

When you admire people, you put them on pedestals. When you love people, you want to be together.

This realization unsettled my sense of personal progress and education: it was possible to have freedom and plenty in the West and craft an empty life; it was possible to "have nothing" in the East and create a life of intimacy and dignity and beauty.

The more personal you are willing to be and the more intimate you are willing to be about the details of your own life, the more universal you are.

More riveting to me in the end than the politics of Berlin was the vast social experiment its division had become... it was possible to have freedom and plenty in the West and craft an empty life; it was possible to "have nothing" in the East and create a life of intimacy and dignity and beauty.

If you don't want to have a baby, that's fine. And if you want sex on the kitchen table, you'll get it." He glared down at his wife. "But you're coming home, and you're coming home now, and I will be happy to discuss this further once you're naked and in my bed." He paused. "Or on the table." His face flushed. "And the next time you leave me, you'd better mean it, woman, because I'm not going to be treated like a doormat. Understand?

Then James took Parker's hands, and without waiting, gave her a long, hot kiss that made her nearly forget there were a hundred people watching. Then he pulled back and smiled that full, wonderful grin, his dark eyes so happy. "Parker," he said, "always lovely to see you.

But I hardly hear anyone, because Trevor is kissing me and whispering, over and over, "I love you, Chas. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Then he slid his hand into my hair and pulled me closer, and when he kissed me, my heart hurt from happiness, if such a thing was possible. "I missed you," I whispered against his mouth.

Don't be nice to me," she whispered, though she didn't move away. "I might cry if you are.

Cordelia, " he said quietly, his smile fading. "I seem to be in love you.

Then before he could break the moment, before he could turn away, I kissed him, and he didn't stop me. Instead, he pushed my hair out of my face, and he kissed me back, gently, sweetly, his hand slipping behind my head, his lips moving just right against mine, smooth and warm. I gripped his shirt and sighed against his mouth, and knew that as long as I lived, this would be the one perfect kiss that I'd remember forever.

Love isn't always the thing that fills up the room, or your heart. Sometimes, it's what sneaks into the in-between spaces.

Love didn't have to be romantic to encircle you in its arms. It didn't have to make your heart race or your toes curl. Love could be just this, the sound of laughter on a warm night, the absolute comfort of being exactly who you were with the person who knew you inside and out.

Wrong," he growls in a voice I've never heard. "Very, very wrong, Chastity. If we were together and didn't work, I'd be out you. You're the one I can't lose

THE LAST TIME my husband and I had sex, I fell asleep. Not after. During.

I have to believe that Adam was not the intended recipient of that hideous, disgusting picture. How do gynecologists do it all day, look between the legs of their patients and not just…just throw up?

I'd known friends who went through this, the grim tracking of the ovulation cycle, the way making love becomes insemination, as romantic as a turkey baster. One of my college friends, in fact, had said she preferred the turkey baster. "I don't have to pretend that way,

In most marriages, lust and love become tempered by normalcy. If you hear your husband farting in the bathroom seconds before he emerges and asks if you want to fool around, you generally don't want to fool around. You might, after a few minutes, but you have to forgive your husband for… well, for being human. For eating a bean burrito. After all, you ate the bean burrito, too.

In most marriages, lust and love become tempered by normalcy.