Quotes About Tenderness

His tongue rubbed over hers, offering comfort and reassurance.

For the human mind in its polarity of the male and female modes of experience, in its passages from infancy to adulthood and old age, in its toughness and tenderness, and in its continuing dialogue with the world, is the ultimate mythogenetic zone -the creator and destroyer, the slave and yet the master, of all the gods.

It is impossible to throw away the stroking on our hair.

Dearness is the order of the day

A dream of tenderness wrestles with all I know of history

You've never heard of an English lover. Only an English patient.

Y mis palabras se sentían arrancadas de su jaula de silencio cuando las atraías con el alpiste dorado de tu ternura inmensa.

Adopt the pace of tenderness and know that its secret is compassion and forgiveness.

And remember that tenderness is one of the wonderful art of immortality.

Never yet was the time of tenderness when the buds forgot to blow.

Tenderness has no pecuniary value.

A kiss without a hug is like a flower without the fragrance.

a silent cry of the inmost heart for the mother, like the lowing of a calf in the twilight,—this

But what dominates palliative medicine is not the proximity to death, but the best bits of living. Kindness, courage, love, tenderness – these are the qualities that so often saturate a person's last days. It can be chaotic, messy, almost violent with grief, but I am surrounded at work by human beings at their most remarkable, unable to retreat from the fact and the ache of our impermanence, yet getting on with living and loving all the same.

Even the social life she'd envied had started to pall on her, the shallowness of it, the same competitive faces in the same rooms, the repetitiveness and lack of growth, the lack of tenderness or intimacy.

Do you know what else I think? I think I like the idea of Lola Carlyle worrying about me." He slid his knuckle along her jaw to her chin and she held her breath.

You make me want to suck a bruise on you just to kiss it better. --Luc to Jane--

Give me some sugar.

Who will kiss you? Who will rock you to sleep?" His voice was slow, drowsy. "You never did," I said, trying to tease him. "You were more father to me than my father, but you never did that." "Someone should. Someone should love you. I will bite him if he will not.

My father's death has given me a lot. It has given me a lifelong love of women, of their grittiness and hardness - traits that we are not supposed to value as feminine. It has also given me a love of men, of their vulnerability and tenderness - traits that we do not foster as masculine or allow ourselves to associate with masculinity.

One becomes a grandfather and one sees the world a little differently. Certainly the world becomes a more vulnerable place when one has a grandchild, or now I have two. And I think that possibly there's some tenderness that came out of just time and age and being a parent and grandparent.

When you're vulnerable and lost and then suddenly somebody is kind to you and gives you love and gives you tenderness and takes care of you in some way, that creates a huge indebtedness. From there, the likelihood that you're going to follow them anywhere is much higher.

Some women succeed at being strong and also tender, but most of those who have intended to walk alone, making their own way, have lost their happiness.

A kind of memory that tells us that what we're now striving for was once nearer and truer and attached to us with infinite tenderness. Here all is distance, there it was breath. After the first home the second one seems draughty and strangely sexed.