Sex Quotes

Flirting is a woman’s trade, one must keep in practice.


So she thoroughly taught him that one cannot take pleasure without giving pleasure, and that every gesture, every caress, every touch, every glance, every last bit of the body has its secret, which brings happiness to the person who knows how to wake it. She taught him that after a celebration of love the lovers should not part without admiring each other, without being conquered or having conquered, so that neither is bleak or glutted or has the bad feeling of being used or misused.


I recall certain moments, let us call them icebergs in paradise, when after having had my fill of her –after fabulous, insane exertions that left me limp and azure-barred–I would gather her in my arms with, at last, a mute moan of human tenderness (her skin glistening in the neon light coming from the paved court through the slits in the blind, her soot-black lashes matted, her grave gray eyes more vacant than ever–for all the world a little patient still in the confusion of a drug after a major operation)–and the tenderness would deepen to shame and despair, and I would lull and rock my lone light Lolita in my marble arms, and moan in her warm hair, and caress her at random and mutely ask her blessing, and at the peak of this human agonized selfless tenderness (with my soul actually hanging around her naked body and ready to repent), all at once, ironically, horribly, lust would swell again–and 'oh, no,' Lolita would say with a sigh to heaven, and the next moment the tenderness and the azure–all would be shattered.


We fucked a flame into being.


You're an expatriate. You've lost touch with the soil. You get precious. Fake European standards have ruined you. You drink yourself to death. You become obsessed with sex. You spend all your time talking, not working. You are an expatriate, see? You hang around cafes.


A perverse nature can be stimulated by anything. Any book can be used as a pornographic instrument, even a great work of literature if the mind that so uses it is off-balance. I once found a small boy masturbating in the presence of the Victorian steel-engraving in a family Bible.


Well, in that hit you miss. She'll not be hitWith Cupid's arrow. She hath Dian's wit,And, in strong proff of chastity well armed,From Love's weak childish bow she lives uncharmed. She will not stay the siege of loving terms,Nor bide th' encounter of assailing eyes,Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold.O, she is rich in beauty; only poorThat, when she dies, with dies her store.Act 1,Scene 1, lines 180-197


She tried to tear herself away from him. The effort broke against his arms that had not felt it. Her fists beat against his shoulders, against his face. He moved one had, took her two wrists, pinned them behind her, under his arm, wrenching her shoulder blades. She twisted her head back. She felt his lips on her breast. She tore herself free…She fought like an animal. But she made no sound. She did not call for help. She heard the echoes of her blows in a gasp of his breath, and she knew that it was a gasp of pleasure…She felt the hatred and his hands; his hands moving over her body, the hands that broke granite. She fought the last convulsion. Then the sudden pain shot up, through her body, to her throat, and she screamed. Then she laid still. It was an act that could be performed in tenderness, as a seal of love, or in contempt, as a symbol of humiliation and conquest. It could be an act of a lover or the act of a soldier violating an enemy woman. He did it as an act of scorn. Not as love, but as defilement. And this made her still and submit…the act of a master taking shameful , contemptuous possession of her was the kind of rapture she had wanted…


Sex is something I really don't understand too hot. You never know where the hell you are... Sex is something I just don't understand. I swear to God.


Can I be blamed for wanting a real body, to put my arms around? Without it I too am disembodied. I can listen to my own heartbeat against the bedsprings...but there’s something dead about it, something deserted.


What freedom men and women could have, were they not constantly tricked and trapped and enslaved and tortured by their sexuality! The only drawback in that freedom is that without it one would not be a human. One would be a monster.


فشعر عندها فجأة برغبة غامضة لا تقاوم في سماع موسيقى هائلة، في سماع ضجيج مطلق وصخب جميل وفرح يكتنف كل شيء ويُغرق ويخنق كل شيء، فيختفي إلى الأبد الألم والغرور وتفاهة الكلمات.


الموسيقى بالنسبة لفرانز هي الفن الأكثر قرباً من الجمال الديونيسي الذي يقدّس النشوة. يمكن لرواية أو للوحة أن تدوّخنا ولكن بصعوبة. أما مع السمفونية التاسعة لبيتهوڤن، أو مع السوناتة المؤلفة من آلتيْ بيانو وآلات النقر لبارتوك، أو مع أغنية للبيتلز، فإن النشوة تعترينا. من جهة أخرى فإن فرانز لا يفرّق بين الموسيقى العظيمة والموسيقى الخفيفة. فهذا التفريق يبدو له خبيثاً وبالياً، فهو يحب موسيقى الروك وموزار على حد سواء.الموسيقى بالنسبة له محرّرة: إذ تحرره من الوحدة والانعزال ومن غبار المكتبات. وتفتح في داخل جسده أبواباً لتخرج النفس وتتآخى مع الآخرين. كما أنه يحب الرقص إلى جانب ذلك ويشعر بالأسى لأن سابينا لا تشاركه هذا الولع.


يمكن اختصار مأساة حياة «باستعارة» الثقل. نقول مثلاً إن حملاً قد سقط فوق أكتافنا. فنحمل هذا الحمل. نتحمله أو لا نتحمله ونتصارع معه، وفي النهاية إما أن نخسر وإما أن نربح. ولكن ما الذي حدث مع سابينا بالضبط؟ لا شيء. افترقت عن رجل لأنها كانت راغبة في الافتراق عنه. هل لاحقها بعد ذلك؟ هل حاول الانتقام؟ لا. فمأساتها ليست مأساة الثقل إنما مأساة الخفة والحمل الذي سقط فوقها لم يكن حملاً بل كان خفة الكائن التي لا تُطاق.


كانت تشعر برغبة جامحة لأن تقول له كما تقول أتفه النساء: «لا تتركني، احتفظ بي إلى جوارك، استعبدني، كن قوياً». ولكنها لا تستطيع ولا تعرف أن تتلفظ بمثل هذه الكلمات.


When you make love you're using up energy; and afterwards you feel happy and don't give a damn for anything. They can't bear you to feel like that. They want you to be bursting with energy all the time. All this marching up and down and cheering and waving flags is simply sex gone sour. If you're happy inside yourself, why should you get excited about Big Brother and the Three-Year Plans and the Two Minutes Hate and all the rest of their bloody rot?


الوقت الإنساني لا يسير في شكل دائري بل يتقدم في خط مستقيم. من هنا، لا يمكن للإنسان أن يكون سعيداً لأن السعادة رغبة في التكرار.


Her room was warm and lightsome. A huge doll sat with her legs apart in the copious easy-chair beside the bed. He tried to bid his tongue speak that he might seem at ease, watching her as she undid her gown, noting the proud conscious movements of her perfumed head.As he stood silent in the middle of the room she came over to him and embraced him gaily and gravely. Her round arms held him firmly to her and he, seeing her face lifted to him in serious calm and feeling the warm calm rise and fall of her breast, all but burst into hysterical weeping. Tears of joy and relief shone in his delighted eyes and his lips parted though they would not speak.She passed her tinkling hand through his hair, calling him a little rascal.—Give me a kiss, she said.His lips would not bend to kiss her. He wanted to be held firmly in her arms, to be caressed slowly, slowly, slowly. In her arms he felt that he had suddenly become strong and fearless and sure of himself. But his lips would not bend to kiss her.With a sudden movement she bowed his head and joined her lips to his and he read the meaning of her movements in her frank uplifted eyes. It was too much for him. He closed his eyes, surrendering himself to her, body and mind, conscious of nothing in the world but the dark pressure of her softly parting lips. They pressed upon his brain as upon his lips as though they were the vehicle of a vague speech; and between them he felt an unknown and timid pressure, darker than the swoon of sin, softer than sound or odour.


كان الحب بينه وبين تيريزا جميلاً، بكل تأكيد، ولكنه كان متعباً: وجب عليه دائماً أن يخفي أمراً ما، وأن يتكتم، وأن يستدرك، وأن يرفع من معنوياتها، وأن يؤاسيها، وأن يثبت باستمرار حبه لها وأن يتلقى ملامات غيرتها وألمها وأحلامها، وأن يشعر بالذنب، وأن يبرر نفسه وأن يعتذر . . الآن كل التعب تلاشى ولم تبقَ إلا الحلاوة.


Congress shall make no law abridging the freedom of production and trade...