Quotes About Pleasure

But what says Socrates?—One man finds pleasure in improving his land, another his horses. My pleasure lies in seeing that I myself grow better day by day.

Stoicism doesn't mean repressing emotion and shunning pleasure, I learned, but, in essence, focusing on what is within our power and letting go of everything we can't control.

If reason tells you a pleasure is wholesome and harmless, you may enjoy it in moderation. But take care not to let your happiness gradually become dependent on it.

If you ever happen to turn your attention to externals, for the pleasure of any one, be assured that you have ruined your scheme of life. Be contented, then, in everything, with being a philosopher; and if you with to seem so likewise to any one, appear so to yourself, and it will suffice you.

I deserved to find pleasure that surpassed my imagination, better than any I had experienced.

We kissed again . . . . My clit began to twerk.

The mouth that you love to feel sucking you. The mouth that makes your toes curl, the mouth that makes you ache and moan.

He tongue swiped my sex like was licking the frosting off a cupcake. I called out to heaven again. . . . My sounds encouraged him to torture me.

His sexual movements were smoother than warm butter, creative, musical, and right away he became a conductor who directed the performance and moans of his one-woman orchestra with his dick. I sang like a choir.

My sounds encouraged his tongue to torture me. . . . Without embarrassment he sucked me like I was a man . . . . Glanced up at me as I looked down at him. . . . Then put all of his tongue deep inside me again. I lost it. People in planes, and on Century, Sepulveda, and Airport boulevards, heard my sexual pleas.

the walls of her vagina tightening around me as she laughed.

hard to create. One will very likely be rejected with the rebuke that one should not spoil the fun! Pleasure as a motivator can apply to the development of commercially

We all have our particular preferences. Mine is gentle sex, the kind in which a man takes forever before he touches you down there. But most people are so guilty about sex that they want the crime and the punishment built in.

La soddisfazione gli affinava il tiro, le sue lettere sarebbero state altrettante armi destinate a colpire tutti quelli che non avevano saputo credere in lui. Provava un piacere feroce a esistere. Quella sera stava bene, è vero, ma il giorno dopo sarebbe stato ancora meglio facendo del male agli altri. Vivere è un po' uccidere

En amour, on appelle ça un étalon; en politique, un démagogue. Le secret de la réussite, c'est de ne penser qu'à la jouissance de l'autre.

Man's happiness today consists in "having fun." Having fun lies in the satisfaction of consuming and "taking in" commodities, sights, food, drinks, cigarettes, people, lectures, books, movies—all are consumed, swallowed. The world is one great object for our appetite, a big apple, a big bottle, a big breast; we are the sucklers, the eternally expectant ones, the hopeful ones—and the eternally disappointed ones.

Pleasure and thrill are conducive to sadness after the so-called peak has been reached; for the thrill has been experienced, but the vessel has not grown.

In my experience there are only a handful of reasons for murder....Jealousy, vengeance, greed, fear and pleasure....Some killers enjoy the kill....For them it is a great game, and for the most part they are the ones I hunt.

Abstainer. A weak man who yields to the temptation of denying himself a pleasure.

All pleasures must be paid for, do not despise those that state their price.

The blessed time of my youth passes by, I pour out the wine of my oblivion. Bitter it is, and thus it pleases me. For this bitterness is the zest of my life.

The OED does include schadenfreude, a word borrowed from German, which means "to take pleasure in the misfortune of another." But it left out one of my personal favorites, epicharicacy, which means the same thing as schadenfreude, and was in English dictionaries until the early nineteenth century. Misdevout

Pleasure, that immortal essence, the beauteous bead sparkling in the cup, effervesces soon and subsides.

The fable runs that the gods mix our pains and pleasure in one cup, and thus mingle for us the adulterate immortality which we alone are permitted here to enjoy. Voluptuous raptures, could we prolong these at pleasure, would dissipate and dissolve us. A sip is the most that mortals are permitted from any goblet of delight.