Quotes

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Here are quotes I find of interest.
S.

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I want to feel you….from the inside.  Anonymous, American

 

For a woman, there is nothing more erotic than being understood.  Molly Haskell

 

As if you were on fire/The moon lives in the lining of your skin.  Pablo Neruda

 

My slender waist and thighs are exhausted and weak from a night of cloud dancing.  Huang O

 

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.  Anais Nin

 

Smell is incredibly important and sensual; it communicates who you are.  Puff Daddy

 

We fucked a flame into being.  D. H. Lawrence

 

What’s a fuck when what I want is love?  Henry Miller

 

A red rose peeping through white?/Or else a cherry (double graced)/Within a lily?  Center placed?/Or ever marked the pretty beam,/A strawberry shows, half drowned in cream?/Or seen rich rubies blushing through/A pure smooth pearl, and orient too?/So like to this, nay all the rest,/Is each nipple of her breast.  Ovid

 

Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry,/Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie.  William Shakespeare

 

Never let go of that fiery sadness called desire.   Patti Smith

 

In life there are two things which are dependable: the pleasures of the flesh and the pleasures of literature.  Sei Shonagōn

 

Unhappy women have used tears, threatening oaths, even collapse to prevent a lover from traveling.  Darling, I’m a pluckier girl.  Good luck and for your early departure, I hope for an auspicious day.  After you’re gone, you may hear what I see fit to do with my love life.  Anonymous, Sanskrit

 

Eros seizes and shakes my very soul like the wind on the mountain shaking ancient oaks.  Sappho

 

Love is a friendship with erotic moments.  Antonio Gala

 

I’ll kiss in the rain so you get twice as wet.  Anonymous, American

Do you think you’ll be the guy/To make the queen of the angels sigh?  The Doors

 

Just a perfect day/You made me forget myself/I thought I was someone else/Someone good.  Lou Reed

 

I left the bed as she had left it, unmade and rumpled, coverlets awry, so that her body’s print might rest still warm beside my own./Until the next day I did not go to bathe, I wore no clothes and did not dress my hair, for fear I might erase some sweet caress./That morning I did not eat, nor yet at dusk, and put no rouge nor powder on my lips, so that her kiss might cling a little longer./I left the shutters closed, and did not open the door, for fear the memory of the night before might vanish with the wind.  Pierre Louÿs

 

Who knows how long I’ve loved you/You know I love you still/Will I wait a lonely lifetime/If you want me to, I will./For if I ever saw you/I didn’t catch your name/But it never really mattered/I will always feel the same./Love you forever and forever/Love you with all my heart/Love you whenever we’re together/Love you when we’re apart./And when at last I find you/Your song will fill the air/Sing it loud so I can hear you/Make it easy to be near you/For the things you do endear you to me./Oh, you know I will/I will./Mm mm mm mm mm mm mm mm mm/Da da da da da da da.  John Lennon & Paul McCartney

 

I let down my silken hair over my shoulders and open my thighs over my lover….  Winter skies are cold and low, with harsh winds and freezing sleet. But when we make love beneath our quilt, we make three summer months of heat.  Tzu Yeh

 

Sometimes at night I think that my husband is with me again, coming gently through the mists, and we are tranquil together.  Then morning comes, the wavering grey turns to gold, there is a stirring within me as the sleepers awake, and he softly departs.  Kamala Markandaya

 

Whatever happens with us, your body/will haunt mine—tender, delicate/your lovemaking, like the half-curled frond/of the fiddlehead fern in forests/just washed by sun. Your traveled, generous thighs/between which my whole face has come and come—/the innocence and wisdom of the place my tongue has found there—/the live, insatiate dance of your nipples in my mouth—/your touch on me, firm, protective, searching/me out, your strong tongue and slender fingers/reaching where I had been waiting for years for you/in my rose-wet cave—whatever happens, this is.  Adrienne Rich

 

And yet one arrives somehow,/finds himself loosening the hooks of/her dress/in a strange bedroom–/feels the autumn/dropping its silk and linen leaves/about her ankles./The tawdry veined body emerges/twisted upon itself/like a winter wind…!  William Carlos Williams

 

you are the one/i am lit for./Come with your rod/that twists/and is a serpent./i am the bush./i am burning/i am not consumed.  Lucille Clifton

 

Wanna tell about my baby/Lord, you know she comes around/About five feet four/From her head to the ground./Well, she comes around here/Just about midnight!/Make me feel so good/Make me feel all right./And her name is G. (G) L. (L) O. (O) R, (R) I. (I). /G.L.O.R.I.A. (Gloria)/G.L.O.R.I.A. (Gloria)/I’m wanna shout it every night (Gloria)/I’m wanna shout it every day (Gloria).  Van Morrison

 

Just you know why/Why you and I/Will bye and bye/Know true love ways/Sometimes we’ll sigh/Sometimes we’ll cry/And we’ll know why/Just you and I/Know true love ways/Throughout the days/Our true love ways/Will bring us joys to share/With those who really care/Sometimes we’ll sigh/Sometimes we’ll cry/And we’ll know why/Just you and I/Know true love ways.  Buddy Holly

 

The screen door slams, Mary’s dress sways/Like a vision she dances across the porch as the radio plays/Roy Orbison singing for the lonely./Hey, that’s me and I want you only./Don’t turn me home again, I just can’t face myself alone again./Don’t run back inside, darling, you know just what I’m here for./So you’re scared and you’re thinking that maybe we ain’t that young anymore./Show a little faith, there’s magic in the night./You ain’t a beauty but, hey, you’re alright./Oh, and that’s alright with me./You can hide ‘neath your covers and study your pain/Make crosses from your lovers, throw roses in the rain/Waste your summer praying in vain/For a savior to rise from these streets./Well now, I ain’t no hero, that’s understood./All the redemption I can offer, girl, is beneath this dirty hood/With a chance to make it good somehow./Hey, what else can we do now?/Except roll down the window and let the wind blow back your hair./Well, the night’s busting open, these two lanes will take us anywhere./We got one last chance to make it real/To trade in these wings on some wheels./Climb in back, heaven’s waiting on down the tracks./Oh oh, come take my hand./We’re riding out tonight to case the promised land./Oh oh oh oh, Thunder Road./Oh, Thunder Road, oh, Thunder Road./Lying out there like a killer in the sun./Hey, I know it’s late, we can make it if we run./Oh oh oh oh, Thunder Road./Sit tight, take hold, Thunder Road./Well, I got this guitar and I learned how to make it talk./And my car’s out back if you’re ready to take that long walk/From your front porch to my front seat./The door’s open but the ride ain’t free./And I know you’re lonely for words that I ain’t spoken/But tonight we’ll be free, all the promises’ll be broken./There were ghosts in the eyes of all the boys you sent away./They haunt this dusty beach road in the skeleton frames of burned-out Chevrolets./They scream your name at night in the street./Your graduation gown lies in rags at their feet./And in the lonely cool before dawn/You hear their engines rolling on./But when you get to the porch, they’re gone on the wind./So Mary, climb in./It’s a town full of losers, I’m pulling out of here to win.  Bruce Springsteen

 

Well, I see them every night in tight blue jeans/In the pages of a Blue Boy magazine./Hey, I’ve been thinking of a new sensation./I’m picking up good vibration./ Ooh she bop, she bop./Do I want to go out with a lion’s roar./Huh, yea, I want to go south and get me some more./Hey, they say that a stitch in time saves nine./ They say I better stop or I’ll go blind./Ooh she bop, she bop./She bop he bop and we bop./I bop you bop and they bop./Be bop be bop a lu bop./I hope he will understand./She bop he bop and we bop./I bop you bop and they bop./Be bop be bop a lu she bop./Ohh, ohh, she do she bop./Hey, hey, they say I better get a chaperon./Because I can’t stop messin’ with the danger zone./Hey, I won’t worry, and I won’t fret./Ain’t no law against it yet, oh she bop, she bop. Cyndi Lauper

 

The erotic has often been misnamed by men and used against women. It has been made into the confused, the trivial, the psychotic, the plasticized sensation. For this reason, we have often turned away from the exploration and consideration of the erotic as a source of power and information, confusing it with its opposite, the pornographic. But pornography is a direct denial of the power of the erotic, for it represents the suppression of true feeling. Pornography emphasizes sensation without feeling.  The erotic is a measure between the beginnings of our sense of self and the chaos of our strongest feelings. It is an internal sense of satisfaction to which, once we have experienced it, we know we can aspire.  Audre Lorde

 

i like my body when it is with your/body…. which i will/again and again and again/kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,/i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz/of your electric fur…  e.e. cummings

 

I will cover you with love when next I see you, with caresses, with ecstasy. I want to gorge you with all the joys of the flesh, so that you faint and die. I want you to be amazed by me, and to confess to yourself that you had never even dreamed of such transports…. When you are old, I want you to recall those few hours, I want your dry bones to quiver with joy when you think of them.  Gustave Flaubert

 

Let me lie,/let me die on thy snow-covered bosom,/I would eat of thy flesh as a delicate fruit,/I am drunk of its smell, and the scent/of thy tresses/Is a flame that devours.  George Moore

 

Be still when you have nothing to say; when genuine passion moves you, say what you’ve got to say, and say it hot.  D.H. Lawrence