and the two of them loved each other for a long time in silence without making love again.
A hedgehog? And just how does a hedgehog make love?" he demanded. No, I thought. I won't. I will not. But I did. "Very carefully," I replied, giggling helplessly. So now we know just how old that one is, I thought.
Albert Camus wrote that the only serious question is whether to kill yourself or not. Tom Robbins wrote that the only serious question is whether time has a beginning and an end. Camus clearly got up on the wrong side of bed, and Robbins must have forgotten to set the alarm. There is only one serious question. And that is: Who knows how to make love stay? Answer me that and I will tell you whether or not to kill yourself.
Making love, she'd always believed, was more than simply a pleasurable act between two people. It encompassed all that a couple was supposed to share: trust & commitement, hopes & dreams, a promise to make it through whatever the future might bring. The greater the love; the greater the tragedy when it is over
The only way to behave to a woman is to make love to her if she is pretty, and to someone else if she is plain.
From space, astronauts can see people making love as a tiny speck of light. Not light, exactly, but a glow that could be confused for light - a coital radiance that takes generations to pour like honey through the darkness to the astronaut's eyes. In about one and a half centuries - after the lovers who made the glow will have long since been laid permanently on their backs - the metropolitan cities will be seen from space. They will glow all year. Smaller cities will also be seen, but with great difficulty. Towns will be virtually impossible to spot. Individual couples invisible.
Those that study particular sciences, and neglect philosophy, are like Penelope's wooers, that make love to the waiting women.
Playing against a defensive opponent is just as bad as making love to a tree.
We were making love in the back of a truck and we got carried away.
I don't think making love the new bottom line is naïve; I believe that thinking we can survive the next hundred years doing anything less, is naïve.
Having to read footnotes resembles having to go downstairs to answer the door while in the midst of making love.
Before I take my last breath, before my last flower withers, I wish to live, I wish to make love, I wish to be in this world close to those who need me, those who I need, in order to learn, comprehend and rediscover that I can be and I want to be better at every moment.
If you make love with the divine now, in the next lifeyou will have the face of satisfied desire.
Poetry and painting are done in the same way you make love; it's an exchange of blood, a total embrace - without caution, without any thought of protecting yourself.
A lot of people attack the sea, I make love to it.
Love is not a matter of getting what you want. Quite the contrary. The insistence on always having what you want, on always being satisfied, on always being fulfilled, makes love impossible.
The only people who make love all the time are liars.
We will make love an art and we will love like artists.
Managing a league club is like making love to a mermaid... you should always be aiming for a top half finish
I think that passion and love and pain are all bearable, and they go to make love beautiful.
On stage I make love to twenty five thousand people; and then I go home alone.
Drinking champagne after making love is like taking a bath in chilled pearls.
Come sleep with me: We won't make Love,Love will make us.
All I plead with you is this: make love of your self perfect
I put my hand on him. Touching him has always been important to me, it was something I lived for. I never could explain why. Little, nothing touches, my fingers against his shoulder, the outsides of our thighs touching as we squeeled together on the bus. I couldnt explain it, but I needed it. Sometimes I imagined stiching all of our little touches together. How many hundreds of thousands of fingers brushing against each other does it take to make love?
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