Quotes About Sensuousness

Rubens! All bosom and bum, big cumulus clouds of pink flesh, eh? You can feel the heart beating like a kettledrum in a ton of that stuff. Every woman a bed; throw yourself on them, sink from sight.

The highest point reached by contemplative [anschauende] materialism, that is, materialism which does not comprehend sensuousness as practical activity, is the contemplation of single individuals and of civil society [bürgerlichen Gesellschaft].

The main defect of all hitherto-existing materialism — that of Feuerbach included — is that the Object [der Gegenstand], actuality, sensuousness, are conceived only in the form of the object [Objekts], or of contemplation [Anschauung], but not as human sensuous activity, practice [Praxis], not subjectively.

The highest point reached by contemplative materialism, that is, materialism which does not comprehend sensuousness as practical activity, is contemplation of single individuals and of civil society. - Theses On Feuerbach (1845)

Feuerbach, not satisfied with abstract thinking, wants contemplation; but he does not conceive sensuousness as practical, human-sensuous activity. - Theses On Feuerbach (1845)

The fact is that she was terribly undressed and I was extremely undressed too. The fact is that I still had my hand where she didn't have anything and she had hers where the same wasn't quite true of me. The fact is that I found myself underneath her and consequently she found herself on top of me.

He carried me, my legs wrapped around him, and moved in and out of me, stroked me as he walked around the room.

We live in this era that has benefited from the Industrial Revolution, and we live with a kind of luxury and plenty that even all but the poorest of Americans live with a kind of sensuousness that was unimagined by medieval kings. But in order to get to this point, a lot of people had to suffer in really terrible ways.

I remember her body so miraculously Fumbling with me so delicately Fighting with me so passionately Exhausting us both so mercilessly Before sleeping beside me so languidly.

Then at certain moments I remember one of his words and I suddenly feel the sensual woman flaring up, as if violently caressed. I say the word to myself, with joy. It is at such a moment that my true body lives.

At five o'clock Paris always has a current of eroticism in the air.

una muchacha de unos diecisiete años con un pelo castaño enrulado y deshecho por la brisa, unos ojos marrones tristes y seguros, rotundos como ciruelas, un cuello que se deslizaba hacia unos senos maliciosamente oprimidos por esa camiseta blanca con dos números menos de los precisos, dos pezones, aunque cubiertos, alborotadores, y una cintura de esas que se cogen para bailar tango hasta que la madrugada y el vino se agotan.

El cabello me caía sobre los hombros desnudos como un manto protector. Tenía los pezones duros, y me pregunté si ese extraño, ese conocedor de los entresijos del mundo sexual secreto, había notado que mi entrepierna estaba húmeda.

Thy red lips, like worms, Travel over my cheek.

a seductiveness that had nothing to do with breasts and hips and legs, but was an invitation to forget the world in the recesses of the body.

Still, her plumpness was charming. Resting an ear on her hip was like lying in a meadow on an idyllic spring afternoon, her thighs as soft as freshly aired futon, the rolling flow of her curves leading gracefully to her pubis. When I complimented her on her qualities, though, all she said was, Oh yeah?

Oscar) Wilde is surely one of the most erotic writers who ever lived.

But no one will understand Oscar Wilde who for a moment loses sight of the fact that he was a pagan born: as Gautier says, "One for whom the visible world alone exists," endowed with all the Greek sensuousness and love of plastic beauty; a pagan, like Nietzsche and Gautier, wholly out of sympathy with Christianity, one of "the Confraternity of the faithless who "cannot" believe," (His own words in "De Profundis.") to whom a sense of sin and repentance are symptoms of weakness and disease.

I take his hand in mine, running my fingers over the palm. His hands are lovely and lean, and I can't help thinking about those hands on my body. The sexiest part of a man is his hands.

His coworker was velvety-skinned, a sexy boy-on-the-cusp-of man.

You don't know what life is until you undress a woman the first time. A button at a time, like peeling a hot sweet potato on a winter's night.

With these words Schiller acknowledges the equal rights of sensuousness and spirituality. He concedes to sensation the right to its own existence. But at the same time we can see in this passage the outlines of a still deeper thought: the idea of a "reciprocity" between the two instincts, a community of interest, or, in modern language, a symbiosis in which the waste products of the one would be the food supply of the other.

We were just sitting on the bed, together, and you were just drinking from me, your mouth on my skin, and you didn't have any panties on? " "You mean you didn't look?

Two very beautiful naked girls are crouched facing each other. They touch each other sensually, they kiss each other's breasts lightly, with the tip of the tongue.