Quotes About Ecstasy

Joy is overwhelming fun - fun so big that it overflows your mind, heart, body - as if all of life and love were spilling into you and you were spilling out.

I cannot tell you how happy and in love I am with everything

The aggregates that we pick up in the human plane will be washed away, and we will become pure spirit, pure light, pure love, and pure ecstasy.

To drive free, to love free, to court destruction with taunts. One brief house of madness and joy!

...when he possessed her, they seemed to swoon together at the very borderland of life's mystery.

Love is the beauty and ecstasy of life.

Understanding is a kind of ecstasy

Ecstasy is a complex emotion containing elements of joy, fear, terror, triumph, surrender, and empathy. What has replaced our prehistoric understanding of this complex of ecstasy now is the word comfort, a tremendously bloodless notion. Drugs are not comfortable, and anyone who thinks they are comfortable or even escapist should not toy with drugs unless they're willing to get their noses rubbed in their own stuff.

Monotheism strenuously denies the need to return to a cultural style that periodically places the ego and its values in perspective through contact with a boundary-dissolving immersion in the Archaic mystery of plant-induced, hence mother-associated, psychedelic ecstasy and wholeness, what Joyce called the mama matrix most mysterious.

Even with nougat, you can have a perfect moment.

I kiss her moving mouth, Her swart hilarious skin; She breaks my breath in half; She frolicks like a beast; And I dance round and round, A fond and foolish man, And see and suffer myself In another being, at last.

When he comes, he makes a noise deep in his throat that is so raw and animal and sexual that I think if he merely looked at me and made that noise, I might explode in an orgasm.

I know that when he has sex he laughs like the world is a perfect place. And when he did that, my hands curled into fists because I thought about touching his face like maybe I could catch joy in my hands and hold it.

When he'd pushed inside me and I'd feel him begin to penetrate, it had turned me into a wild thing-hot, wet, and desperate for more of him. With every kiss, every caress, every thrust, I'd just needed more. He'd touched me, I went nuts. The world dwindled down to one thing: him.

Make love to me, make me forget.

Me under her, behind her. Driving up into her. What will she do? Say? How does she sound when she comes?

Slick with sweat, I defile her with reverence. Or revere her with defilement. Every. Inch. Of. Her. Motherfuckingfinebody. She likes it. No holds barred with this woman. I wouldn't have believed it of her. And she does scream Ã¢â'¬Â¦

Stupendous sex is a drug, addictive, consuming. I know from personal experience.

We are all raccoon-drunk on moonlight and bloodshed and the heady, underblossom smell of the forest.

As Karyatis she rejoiced in the dances of the girls of the nut-tree village of Karyai, those Karyatides who in their ecstatic round-dance carried on their heads baskets of live reeds, as if they were dancing plants.

we touched each other's center, perfectly, just the fingertip upon the clitoris moving more and more slowly, our eyes steady on each other and the delicate pressure fine and more fine until all motion stopped in one still point remembered always, a vision. And then I did not know her pleasure from mine, my body from hers. We fell into and became each other. Then we slipped over the edge, entered and made love.

I call it the indescribable charm of life. It was a feeling of ecstasy that was almost distress when it came, because it came so bound up and clogged by our own stupid feeling- the stupid ache of never being able to equal it or match it with anything like itself when it came.

And all the best words together couldn't hold the happiness.

I call it "pedal magic" and only those who ride know the utter ecstasy of bicycling. Pressing a pedal toward Earth gives flight to my fancy. Every rotation powers my traveling machine toward yet another date with destiny. The breeze clears my senses. The wind blows away my troubles. The sun shines upon my future. Spinning spokes create flashing metal upon an endless path—cycling feels like an infinite spiritual rush. It cleanses my mind. All my troubles fade into joy.