Quotes About Pleasure

One of the down-side factors to living alone is that you sometimes get overly absorbed with how exact segments of time are consumed, and can begin to feel a pleasure with life that is hopelessly tinged with longing.

My only advice for reading the book is stop reading when it is no longer fun.

The human race has dreamed of heaven and hell for millennia. Pleasure or pain unending, undiminished, and uncurtailed by the strictures of life or death. Thanks to virtual formatting, these fantasies can now exist. All that is needed is an industrial-capacity power generator. We have indeed made hell—and heaven—on earth.

Durante toda una eternidad, nuestras palabras pasaban de los murmullos a las exclamaciones excitadas. Cambiábamos de postura y nos mordisqueábamos suavemente, mientras me embargaba un sentimiento que amenazaba con desbordarme por mis ojos. La presión era insostenible; me abandoné y descargué en ella mientras la sentía buscar los últimos vestigios de mi erección con sus últimas contracciones.

Una vez a la semana, regálate una experiencia lúdica en solitario. Haz algo que te resulte muy placentero. Opta por algo divertido, algo que estimule tu imaginación. Planifica la cita con antelación con el fin de esperarla con expectación. Permítete ser juguetón. Sé joven de espíritu.

I believe in red meat. I've often said: red meat and gin.

In France, Paul explained, good cooking was regarded as a combination of national sport and high art, and wine was always served with lunch and dinner.

Love may not lead where we think or hope, but regardless of outcome it should be a call to seriousness and truth. If it is not that - if it is not moral in its effect - then love is no more than an exaggerated form of pleasure.

Remember the botched brothel-visit in L'Education sentimentale and remember its lesson. Do not participate: happiness lies in the imagination, not the act. Pleasure is found first in anticipation, later in memory.

And yet it takes only the smallest pleasure or pain to teach us of time's malleability. Some emotions speed it up, others slow it down; occasionally, it seems to go missing - until the eventual point when it really does go missing, never to return.

Isn't the most reliable form of pleasure, Flaubert implies, the pleasure of anticipation? Who needs to burst into fulfilment's desolate attic?

Is there anything more plausible than a second hand? And yet it takes only the smallest pleasure or pain to teach us time's malleability. Some emotions speed it up, others slow it down; occasionally, it seems to go missing--until the eventual point when it really does go missing, never to return.

But if nostalgia means the powerful recollection of strong emotions—and a regret that such feelings are no longer present in our lives—then I plead guilty . . . And if we're talking about strong feelings that will never come again, I suppose it's possible to be nostalgic about remembered pain as well as remembered pleasure. And that opens up the field, doesn't it?

My reading might be pointless in terms of the history of literary criticism; but it's not pointless in terms of pleasure.

Jake, who is both fitter and more hedonistic than me, once told me what they say about martinis: One's perfect. Two's too many. And three's not enough.

When I felt myself escaping from the earth," he commented, "my reaction was not pleasure but happiness." It was "a moral feeling," he added. "I could hear myself living, so to speak.

Ljudi kažu da je život prava stvar ali ja više volim ?itanje.

Weet je wat het is - de natuur is heel precies, het doet precies zoveel pijn als het waard is, dus beleef je in zekere zin, denk ik, genoegen aan de pijn. Als het er niet toe deed, zou het er niet toe doen.

an?msanan hazlar kadar, an?msanan ac?lar konusunda da nostaljik olmak mümkün

Love may not lead where we think or hope, but regardless of outcome it should be a call to seriousness and truth. If it is not that - if it is not moral in its effect - than love is no more than an exaggerated form of pleasure.

We believe too little, and aesthetically know too much; so we re-create, we find new categories of pleasure in the work.

Good sex is better than bad sex. Bad sex is better than no sex, except when no sex is better than bad sex. Self-sex is better than no sex, except when no sex is better than self-sex. Sad sex is always far worse than good sex, bad sex, self-sex and no sex. Sad sex is the saddest sex of all.

Not every man will make you want to do anything he wishes because the moment he touches you your body is his to command. Not every man is capable of making you scream with bliss in every imaginable position, or knows where to touch you or listens to your breath and your sighs to know precisely how to touch you, so that the pleasure you experience is the most intense. Not every man will make you see stars every ...single... time.

No, Kinkade," Chase said thoughtfully. "I don't think a woman can destroy you. You can't be destroyed because…there's nothing to destroy. I warrant that you just reflect whatever's near you. Like a puddle of mud. You reflect honor if you're near it. You reflect decay if you're near it. Left to your own devices, you've no moral center at all, no concern except for your own pleasure. This is the result.