Quotes About Pleasure

I absolutely love Shirley Temples. I don't know why, but ever since I was young, it's always been my favorite thing to drink!

It's better to enjoy life - selection is a temporary thing.

When our lives revolve around Christ we find order and harmony. And by implication, whenever something other than Christ—money, power, pleasure, honor—fills the center, the soul falls into disharmony. The well-ordered soul begins to wobble and go off-kilter.

It was a convulsion of obscenity, a spasm of lasciviousness – an exudation of secret hungers framed by compulsion: desire without pleasure, pain mated awfully to lust. It was like watching a soul stripped naked, and all its dark and unmentionable secrets laid bare.

I can say with confidence that no man, however mature, ever loved reading for its own sake more than I. I did not read because of any particular urge for learning, or to merely pass the time, or to escape the realities of life. I read simply because I loved reading for its own sake alone. The printed page was like wine to me."—Robert E. Howard (from One Who Walked Alone by Novalyne Price Ellis)

In this world men struggle and suffer vainly, finding pleasure only in the bright madness of battle

overwhelms you with tingling excitement give you pleasure because of internal molecules. Some researchers believe that thrills occur when molecules called endorphins are released. A drug called naloxone blocks those molecules and prevents music from inspiring

adultery can indeed be pleasant, and tying one on can amuse. But betrayal, jealousy, love grown cold, and the gray dawn of the morning after are nobody's idea of a good time.

Robin was disposed to feel desperately sorry for anyone with a less fortunate love life than her own – if desperate pity could describe the exquisite pleasure she actually felt at the thought of her own comparative paradise.

Except . . . she remembered how much pleasure it had given her to see him sitting in Notes Café, after a week's absence, and how happy she was, no matter the circumstances, to see Strike's name light up her phone.

She has an enviable capacity for enjoying the familiar.

He drank it sitting in Robin's chair, and ate half a packet of digestives,

Both were ordering cocktails and looked delighted to be in each other's company. For a few seconds Robin suddenly wondered whether she'd ever again feel as they did.

Mostly Strike was savoring the pleasure it had given him to hear Robin return his declaration of affection.

They parted with a wave, concealing from each other the slight smile that each wore once safely walking away, pleased to know that they would meet again in a few short hours, over curry and beer and Nick and Ilsa's.

Somewhere in the pain there is pleasure, and that is the most awful part, perhaps. (170)

desire had its exaggerated and dramatic pleasures, but he was bored by the endless scenes and recantations. Love was simply the same steady heartbeat hour after hour. It bored him with its lack of event.

She had agreed to marry him without realizing that marriage brought a kind a simple pleasure, a pleasure in the continued company of another human being, the act of caring, of carrying with you the thought of someone else. She would, she supposed, never see him age beyond the present day, and found that the thought made her immeasurably sad. Somewhere,

love-making and good food are the essential ingredients of life

Beauty is no material thing. Beauty cannot be copied. Beauty is the sensation of pleasure on the mind of the seer. No thing is beautiful. But all things await the sensitive and imaginative mind that may be aroused to pleasurable emotion at sight of them. This is beauty.

Some assholes take a similar kind of pleasure in your pain. When they do something that generates a strong reaction from you—be it obsequious ass-kissing, effusive apologizing, trembling with fear, giving in to tears or anger, or sending that long and carefully worded email you spent an hour crafting in response to their imaginary emergency—the pleasure centers in their twisted minds light up.

This "rhythm method" can help anyone besieged by such micromanaging pleasure seekers: try to slow things down, make THEM squirm and suffer as much as you can, and train them to back off and wait. They might just stop badgering you—and turn their attention to more responsive and thus more satisfying targets instead.

Magic is absurd. It is a system of thinking that does not work and does not get one anywhere," said the friar. "It works, but it does not get one anywhere," said Vance. "But it is very beautiful. Magic is an art that pleases the eye and the ear," said Bulbul.

True contentment comes from enjoying the smallest pleasures of day as much as the grandest moments of the year.