c2p-cmd/Good-Quotes-Authors huggingface dataset:
Whilst lovers: to control her man, a woman uses (the man’s access to) her vagina. When ex-lovers: she uses (the man's access to) their kids.
— Mokokoma Mokhonoana
Submitted for your approval--the curious case of Colleen O’Brien and thegorgeous time traveling Scot who landed in her living room.” – Rod Serling
— Shannon MacLeod, Rogue on the Rollaway
Och, lass. Yer going to have to not do that.” Faolán exhaled. “Creeping up on a man is a dangerous thing, and I confess I’m jumpier than most. Yer feet are soft as a cat’s.”“I wasn’t creeping anywhere, I was going to make coffee and this is my house, I’ll creep anywhere I like,” Colleen muttered with a petulant scowl. “But I wasn’t creeping.
— Shannon MacLeod, Rogue on the Rollaway
You turn the lights on and off here and if you can’t sleep and want something to read there are books in the living room…” her voice broke off. “Wait. Can you read?”His chin took a slight tilt upward. “Aye,” Faolán replied, his voice cool, “in English, Gaelic, Latin, or French. My Welsh is a bit rusty, and I doona remember any of the Greek I was taught except for words not fit for a lady’s ears. I can also count all the way up to…” He looked down and wiggled his large bare toes, “…twenty.” – Faolán MacIntyre
— Shannon MacLeod, Rogue on the Rollaway
Refusing to lean back against him, Colleen sat ramrod straight until they reached the road. “I guess I should say thank you for saving my life,” she muttered then turned and slapped Faolán hard across the face. “And that’s for you having to save it in the first place. And I’m not your woman, you big, arrogant, lying, betraying…faery loving…” She searched for the perfect insult and couldn’t find one, “…Scot.” She gave a very unladylike snort. “Happy now? That fiery enough for you?
— Shannon MacLeod, Rogue on the Rollaway
It is rude to tweet while having sex. However, it is not rude to have sex while tweeting.
— Mokokoma Mokhonoana
We are all the fruits of pleasure's toil.
— Lucas Mascotto-Carbone
Elle Remembered Yorkshire road and the flat he shared with Caitlin and their daughter, and she almost stopped and turned back, and then she hardened herself against it. It's his problem if he wants to sleep with someone and he shouldn't, she told herself. It's a one night thing. I'm in the clear. It's sex, nothing else.
— Harriet Evans, Happily Ever After
Have you ever longed for someone so much, so deeply that you thought you would die? That your heart would just stop beating? I am longing now, but for whom I don't know. My whole body craves to be held. I am desperate to love and be loved. I want my mind to float into another's. I want to be set free from despair by the love I feel for another. I want to be physically part of someone else. I want to be joined. I want to be open and free to explore every part of them, as though I were exploring myself.
— Tracey Emin, Strangeland
Morals are nothing but a civilized society’s attempt to tame some beast called man.
— Mokokoma Mokhonoana
To see a man’s true colours, tell him that you don’t plan on having sex with him. To see a woman’s true colours, tell her that you don’t plan on marrying her.
— Mokokoma Mokhonoana
Why do you always have to put you and McNab and sex in my head? It brings pain no blocker can cure.
— J.D. Robb, Missing in Death
98% of the things said by a drunk man are true
—  98% of those said by a horny man aren’t.
When we see a good-looking woman with a not-so-good-looking man, we assume that the man must have a good bank balance. When we see a good-looking man with a not-so-good-looking woman, we assume that she must be good in bed.
— Mokokoma Mokhonoana
I believe in Aphrodite, I believe in insane thinkers, I believe in roaring free-spirits, I believe in full-throated poetry, I believe in feverish sex and moony love with all its facets.
— Laura Gentile, Seraphic Addiction
An educated woman is seen as a human being with a vagina. An uneducated woman is seen as a vagina with a human being.
— Mokokoma Mokhonoana
A hundred years ago, an average teenager knew countless authors, and, a sex position or two. Today, an average teenager knows countless sex positions, and, an author or two.
— Mokokoma Mokhonoana
Some women sleep their way to the top. Most men sleep their way to the bottom.
— Mokokoma Mokhonoana
For the duration of his erection: To a horny man, all women are the most beautiful woman in the world.
— Mokokoma Mokhonoana
To a man who was required to marry before he was allowed to have sex with his lover, marriage is a ‘righteous’ form of prostitution.
— Mokokoma Mokhonoana
I hear her slip into bed with him, and I hear everything that happens after that. Sex is such a strange and sloppy business, why bother to recount every slurp and moan that ensued? Tom and Honey deserve their privacy, and for that reason I will end my report of the night's activities here. If some readers object, I ask them to close their eyes and use their imaginations.
— Paul Auster, The Brooklyn Follies
I love your body 'cause I've lost my mind If you want someone to talk to, you're wasting your time If you want someone to share your life, you need someone who's alive And if every relationship is a two-way street, I have been screwing in the back whilst you driveI never said I was deep, but I am profoundly shallow My lack of knowledge is vast, and my horizons are narrow I never said I was big, I never said that I was clever And if you're waiting to find what's going on in my mind, you could be waiting forever Forever and everI can dance you to the end of the night 'cause I'm afraid of the dark I have to confess: I'm out of my depth You're going over my head and straight through my heartSome girls like to play it dirty, some girls want to be your mum Me, I disrespected you whilst we were waiting for the taxi to come My morality is shabby, my behaviour unacceptable No, I'm not looking for a relationship, just a willing receptacleI never said I was... I never said I was... I never said I was...I never said I was deep, but I am profoundly shallow My lack of knowledge is vast, and my horizons are narrow Oh, yeah. I never said I was big, I never said that I was clever And if you're waiting to find what's going on in my mind, you could be waiting forever Forever and ever
— Jarvis Cocker
I couldn't understand how boldness and sorrow, how you're so hard and do you really care for me? could be so thoroughly bound together. Nor could I begin to fathom how someone so seemingly vulnerable, hesitant, and eager to confide so many uncertainties about herself could, with one and the same gesture, reach into my pants with unabashed recklessness and hold on to my cock and squeeze it.
— André Aciman, Call Me by Your Name
88% of women love making their first love making incident with a man seem like an accident.
— Mokokoma Mokhonoana
When I was 14-15 There was nothing to my lifebut dancing and sexI'd go to night clubs and danceThen I'd meet someone and have sexit was Fine and easynothing to doBUT Think with my bodylike a birdI Thought I was FreeTrAcey Emin
— Tracey Emin, Strangeland
Some marry because they are in love. Others marry to have sex ... without the guilt.
— Mokokoma Mokhonoana
Condoms seemed to her inherently wicked. But they were also inherently funny. They were like rubber gloves with only one finger, and every time she saw one she had to be severe with herself or she’d get the giggles, a terrifying thought because the man might think you were laughing at him, at his dick, at its size, and that would be fatal.
— Margaret Atwood, The Robber Bride
They had imagined too often and too much and so they had exhausted all their possibilities. When they embraced each other’s phantoms, each in his separate privacy has savoured the most refined of pleasures but, connoisseurs of unreality as they were, they could not bear the crude weight, the rank smell and the ripe taste of real flesh. It is always a dangerous experiment to act out a fantasy; they had undertaken the experiment rashly and had failed…
— Angela Carter, Love
Prostitutes are paid for taking their clothes off. Celebrities are paid for putting others' clothes on.
— Mokokoma Mokhonoana
I have seldom met an individual of literary tastes or propensities in whom the writing of love was not directly attributable to the love of writing.A person of this sort falls terribly in love, but in the end it turns out that he is more bemused by a sheet of white paper than a sheet of white bed linen. He would rather leap into print with his lady than leap into bed with her. (This first pleases the lady and then annoys her. She wants him to do both, and with virtually the same impulse.)
— E.B. White, Is Sex Necessary? or Why You Feel the Way You Do
This was the move that was supposed to sweep me away. She seemed a little out of practice. I guess life with Charley Royce hadn’t exactly been the third reel of The English Patient. It had to be bad if Mickey Dolan was your back-up. Not to put Mickey down but he didn’t strike me as the lover-boy type. Especially when he took out his teeth. The last time Mickey thought about pleasing anybody but himself was just before he discovered how to sniff glue.
— Dan Ahearn, Shoot the Moon
Some couples are married because they fell in love. Some are married because the woman fell pregnant.
— Mokokoma Mokhonoana
Starving whilst schooled is like a man’s finding out that his wife is on her periods … a few seconds after he took Viagra.
— Mokokoma Mokhonoana
The second orgasm has a biblical connotation.
— Mokokoma Mokhonoana
My phone started to vibrate and I flipped it open. Yes, I'm the only person that doesn't have an iPhone.The phone talked to me. "Jackson, how’s it going?""Hi, Echo. Veeva Stackpoole’s here."Silence. "What does she want?""Well, at first she wanted me to run away with her and get a lot of plastic surgery - ""Oooo, can I come too?" she said. I love Echo so much."Hey, Veeva, Echo wants to come. Is that okay?"Veeva sneered and said, "Asshole...""Echo it doesn’t look like we’re going to go now. Veeva doesn’t want to.
— Dan Ahearn, Shoot the Moon
Then she squeezed me tighter. Her leg came up and wrapped around me. Then she kissed me too hard and our teeth banged together. I felt like a boa constrictor’s dinner.
— Dan Ahearn, Shoot the Moon
Miss McClure...” he had been talking while her mind drifted off. She brought her gaze back to his face, trying to focus on the flinty stare and thin line of his lips. “Sorry, I was distracted. And can’t you call me Bryn?”“I’ll try, but generally I prefer a more formal approach in business dealings. It keeps the relationship clear.”“Like, you in charge, the other person in submission?” The words popped out before she edited herself. Her eyes grew large as she watched his face go through a change of expression. A slight smile hovered at the corner of his mouth.“Yes, something like that. Might I get a refill?” He held up his empty glass.
— Lizzie Ashworth, Hers to Choose
At night all cats are grey.
— George Orwell, Keep the Aspidistra Flying
The most expensive sex is free sex
— Woody Allen
Ask yourself something. Have you ever thought about why guys want you gone the next day? It’s not because they’ve got things to do, though I’m sure there are a few assholes who think like that, either because they repeated the folly so often they learned to bury the guilt or because they didn’t have a conscience to begin with but, truthfully, it’s because they can’t stand to look at the reason they feel a hole in their chest. They don’t like reminders of who helped put that sick feeling in the pits of their stomachs. As long as they had a decent mama, the guilt is always substantial. Always. If they say differently, they’re liars." - Spencer Blackwell, GREED
— Fisher Amelie, Greed
Her attitude towards sex is very comforting to those of her friends who get into terrible states of passion and jealousy, and feel cut loose from their moorings. She seems to regard sex as a wholesome, slightly silly indulgence, like dancing and nice dinners--something that shouldn't interfere with people's being kind and cheerful to each other.
— Alice Munro, The Moons of Jupiter
For her, sex was nothing more than an itch. And this phsychological and physiological neutrality of hers at once relieved her of so many human emotions and sentiments and desires. Sexual neutrality was the essence of coldness in an individual. It was a great and wonderful thing to be born with.
— Ian Fleming, From Russia With Love
(...) before they actually admit to the big 'L' word. Love or lust - what's the big, damn deal? You're going to  fuck either way, right?
— C.M. Stunich, Losing Me, Finding You
He calls me his Queen of the Night. He shows me the wonders in this incredible city. He encourages me to find my own way, and to choose what I think is right or wrong.And the sex, God, the sex! I never knew what sex was until him! It’s not soft music and candlelight, a choice, a deliberate action.It’s as involuntary as breathing, and as impossible not to do. It’s slammed up against a wall in a dark alley, or flat on my back on cold concrete because I can’t stand one more second without him. It’s on my hands and knees, dry-mouthed, heart-in-my-throat, waiting for the moment he touches me, and I’m alive again. It’s punishing and purifying, velvet and violent, and it makes everything else melt away, until nothing matters but getting him inside me and I wouldn’t just die for him—I’d kill for him, too.Like I did tonight.
— Karen Marie Moning, Faefever
Fireworks. Snowflakes. Sunstroke and frostbite. It was all that I could ask for and completely unexpected. I expected demands. He gifted me with tenderness. I expected ego. He let me experiment. I expected disrespect. He called me beautiful. I expected him to expect perfection. He taught me all I needed to know.
— Ellen Hopkins, Crank
Some people's glasses are half full. I'm the one drinking them. Some people have forgotten that Pluto is still a planet. I still remember my childhood. Some people are vegans. I have common sense.Some people call me Maurice. Some people call me the Gangsta of Love. Some people just want to live...but me, I'm the one still alive.
— Dave Matthes, Sleepeth Not, the Bastard
The boring thing with 'No sex before marriage' is that kids will never get to attend their parents’ wedding.
— Mokokoma Mokhonoana, The Confessions of a Misfit
I'd been with boys before; I'd been with boys I'd thought were men. But this was different. David kissed like a man. He tasted, he smelled and he fucked like a man.
— Jessica Hawkins, Come Undone
Perversion is just another form of art. It's like painting or drawing or sculpting. Except instead of paint, us perverts use sex as our medium. 
— C.M. Stunich, Losing Me, Finding You
…she was afraid of how he made her feel, because he made her feel way too much
— Justine Dell, All-American Girl
One little second of pleasure, a whole life of pain...my mother knew nothing of the pleasures of a good roll in the hay...she missed out on all that...like me, her son...a lifetime of sacrifice!...the woman who can grunt and rave in the throes of a deep fuck can die happy...
— Louis-Ferdinand Céline, Fable for Another Time
He didn't say anything and I thought I'd shocked him, because I tend to do that. Not just with Michael but with pretty much anyone who can't deal with being honest and admitting that you have wants and needs and desires and all those other fun things.
— Sarra Manning, Adorkable
Get up and get on the bed in the Master. I’m going to fuck the hell out of you.
— Alessandra Torre, To Have
Her heart unfolded in her chest, took in all of him, and closed tightly, unwilling to let him go
— Justine Dell
Each instinct and passion of man is amoral; it is only the abuse of these passions that makes them wrong. There is nothing wrong about hunger, but there is something wrong about gluttony; there is no sin in thirst, but there is a sin in drunkenness; there is nothing wrong with a man who seeks economic security, but there is something wrong with a man who is avaricious; there is nothing to be despised in knowledge, but there is something to be condemned in pride; there is nothing wrong with the flesh, but there is something wrong in the abuse of the flesh. Just as dirt is matter in the wrong place, so sin is flesh in the wrong place. Sex has its place in that area of life designed for its fruition, but the misuse of it outside of that natural and supernatural bond is wrong.
— Fulton J. Sheen, Three to Get Married
Do you know how much damage we could do to each other in an hour?
— David Bischoff, Some Kind of Wonderful
Hey, you’re the one who can’t stand me being so close to you.
— Justine Dell, All-American Girl
She loved this man. This wonderful, respectiful, willful man. And she couldn’t even tell him.
— Justine Dell, All-American Girl
You know, I'm not even sure how we ended up living together.""I am," Jake said, turning back to the lake. "Sex. It's a powerful force, my boy, and women use it.""Is that why you gave them up?" Will asked, sympathetically. "Did paranoia drive you to celibacy?
— Jennifer Crusie, Manhunting
Treat me with respect, dignity, and grace because I am worthy of your love.
— Electa Rome Parks, Almost Doesn't Count
There was a part of me that was so horny, I wanted to climb on top of Randall on the first date. But there was also a part of me that was so terrified, I wanted to go home, put on my feety pajamas and hibernate for the winter.
— Meredith Schorr, A State of Jane
Without freedom of sex
—  all freedoms are temporary.
What’s bothering me is you always seem ready to snap my head off my shoulders and I’m not comfortable with that.
— Justine Dell, All-American Girl
Oh, I have felt lust. And I've indulged lust. But no other woman has turned me into another person.
— Eloisa James, A Duke of Her Own
Who do you have to sleep with to get laid in this town?
— Sloane Crosley, I Was Told There'd Be Cake
I wiped my jaw with a forearm, half imagining that I could still feel the product of the quickie out back of the bar.
— Kaden Brown, Lilith
Amazing sex stays with you. It soaks into your skin. It floats through your dreams and has you silently smoldering with delicious remembrances for hours after. It has you craving it days later. And it has you aching for it if you don’t get it for awhile.
— Roberto Hogue, Real Secrets of Sex: A Women's Guide on How to Be Good in Bed
Many are the women who can take their clothes off seductively, but women who can charm as they dress?
— Haruki Murakami, Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World
We fell into each other’s arms and kissed like we were coming up for air after being underwater for days. The melding of our mouths was sweeter than oxygen. We took huge, deep gulps of each other as we struggled with worldly constraints like clothing and gravity, seeking to transcend it all in our coming together.
— Emme Rollins, Dear Rockstar
He held me tight against him until I quit struggling, and then he flicked the strap of my dress, causing it to hang off my shoulder.''Since the word virgin came out of those beautiful lips of yours... I have a sudden urge to help you out of that dress.
— Jamie McGuire, Beautiful Disaster
Hatred is about possession. It is all-consuming, cruel, and vainglorious. When love is allowed to fester, it becomes twisted and corrupt; it settles deep in the heart...and metastasizes, sending its dark roots through the body to raze all that stands in its way. Love is chaste and pure. Love is banal....No, hatred has infinitely more possibilities.
— Nenia Campbell, Terrorscape
Max replies, "Why the fuck n- Oh man, are you gettin' lucky?"I quickly do up Asher's jeans and stand. Max bursts into laughter when he sees my head ascend and chuckles, "Shit, guys. Warn a brother. Did you at least finish?"Ash smiles big fluffling my hair, I tell Max, "I never start something I don't plan to finish."Ash wraps his arm around me and Max shakes his head. He says, "Well if you two don't mind, I think I'm gonna make this a blowjob free zone from now on.
— Belle Aurora, Love Thy Neighbour
And in fact the artist's experience lies so unbelievably close to the sexual, to its pain and its pleasure, that the two phenomena are really just different forms of one and the same longing and bliss. And if instead of "heat" one could say "sex";- sex in the great, pure sense of the word, free of any sin attached to it by the Church, - then his art would be very great and infinitely important. His poetic power is great and as strong as a primal instinct; it has its own relentless rhythms in itself and explodes from him like a volcano.
— Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet
Love is all the dirty little tricks you taught me that you probably got out of some book.
— Ernest Hemingway, To Have and Have Not
Every nutritious sexual recipe calls for at least a pinch of love, and the fucks that rate four-star rankings from both gourmets and health-food nuts used cupfuls. Not that sex should be regarded as therapeutic or to be taken for medicinal purposes - only a dullard would hang such a millstone around the nibbled neck of a lay - but to approach sex carelessly, shallowly, with detachment and without warmth is to dine night after night in erotic greasy spoons. In time, one's palate will become insensitive, one will suffer (without knowing it) emotional malnutrition, the skin of the soul will fester with scurvy, the teeth of the heart will decay. Neither duration nor proclamation of commitment is necessarily the measure - there are ephemeral explosions of passion between strangers that make more erotic sense than many lengthy marriages, there are one-night stands in Jersey City more glorious than six-months affairs in Paris - but finally there is a commitment, however brief; a purity, however threatened; a vulnerability, however concealed; a generosity of spirit, however marbled with need; an honest caring, however singed by lust, that must be present if couplings are to be salubrious and not slow poison.
— Tom Robbins, Still Life with Woodpecker
I won't stay inwith married menany moresaid the wise girlthey're too agreeable,it's a little too muchlike curlingupwith the good book.You meanagood bookOh, dear,did I saythegood booksighed the witch.
— Norman Mailer, Deaths For The Ladies
You may know where to touch her, but that doesn't mean you know how to touch her. Take time to learn what she truly desires.
— Stephan Labossiere, How to Get a Woman to Have Sex With You If You’re Her Husband
Glorious sex that poets write about and that angels blow their trumpets over absolutely requires the participants to be fully engaged and fully witnessing the entire event!
— Roberto Hogue, Real Secrets of Sex: A Women's Guide on How to Be Good in Bed
I don’t think women are made only for sex
—  they can turn men into wolves and make them fight till the death.
Then, for no reason I could tell you, I tossed the spool again, even though Elaine had asked me not to. Maybe only because, in a way, him chasing a spool was like old people having their slow and careful version of sex - you might not want to watch it , you who are young and convinced that, when it comes to old age, an exception will be made in your case, but they still want to do it.
— Stephen King, The Green Mile
Every night that he watched over her sleeping form, his urge to protect and take care of her grew. And those weren't the only urges. When she'd throw back the blanket and bare her long legs, it was all he could do not to kneel at her feet, kiss her slim ankles, and slip his hands up her smooth thighs.
— Amber Belldene, Blood Entangled
Well, that explains why we jumped into bed with each other so quickly. We were both hornier than a bucket of desert toads.
— Olivia Cunning, Tie Me
Sex was this primal connection like no magick she had ever known, even separated by a millimeter of latex. She knew that some combined the two and, while she could see how this would improve the magick, it would dilute the sex.
— Thomm Quackenbush, We Shadows
His presence was stirring heat in all the wrong places and for all the wrong reasons.
— Justine Dell, All-American Girl
Sex is difficult
—  yes. But those tasks that have been entrusted to us are difficult
You let me set the water in the shower, and followed me into the booth to stand there with me under the warm spray. You kept your head down, not looking me in the eyes—though if you were shy, I couldn’t tell. You had no reason to be. You know what you look like.I know you don’t remember what we did.I want to tell you.
— Julio Alexi Genao, When You Were Pixels
In our age it is not sex that raises its ugly head, but love.
— John Fowles, The Magus
It should all feel splendid. You tell me if it doesn't, and I shall rectify the situation.
— Sarah MacLean, A Rogue by Any Other Name
The difference between sex with David and sex with Stephen is like the difference between science and art. With Stephen it's all empathy and imagination and exploration and the shock of the new, and the outcome is... uncertain, if you know what I mean. I'm engaged by it, but I', mot necessarily sure what its all about. David, on the other hand, presses this button, then that one, and bingo! It's like operating a lift - just as romantic, but actually just as useful.
— Nick Hornby, How to Be Good
All I want is some man to take delight in me. 5:30? 6:30 A.M. as usual, no cigs. Better a maudlin drunk than a sterile one. My pimples are more like small boils; I have the plague. My lip is split. My tits are swollen and I can't ever sleep. I now breathe with my heart, which skips rope. Back to sex?
— Maryse Holder, Give Sorrow Words: Maryse Holder's Letters From Mexico
Prostitution, perversion, and pornography are intertwined with independence and radical politics in the history of outstanding women. Radclyffe Hall, Colette, Anaïs Nin, Kate Millett, Erica Jong--all of these women used the money they made from writing about sexuality to make it possible for them to live as rebels, dykes, feminists, artists, or whatever deviant and defiant identities they assumed.
— Patrick Califia-Rice, Some Women
I was pure, before you defiled me, and don't you forget it. As though the concept of purity is anything more than the construct of selfish, competitive men stampeding toward the women to call dibs. I'll be damned if I'm not worth stampeding toward, but the prize had better be me, hymen or no hymen.
— Thomm Quackenbush, Danse Macabre (Night's Dream, #2)
The problem with our feelings is we don’t understand whether we are in love or we wanted to have sex.
— M.F. Moonzajer
It is easy to have sex in dark but difficult to plug in your charger.
— Scratchy Singh
You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to get into my metaphysical pants.
— Allison Pang, A Brush of Darkness
Looking through the ruby glass one cannot see the true colour of the sky.
— Lara Biyuts, La Arme Blanche
I don’t know how we made it to the bed or if the water was ever turned off in the shower. But we were together, our bodies slippery, our wet hair soaking the sheets we were tangled in. And then we were tangled, our legs and arms. His hands were everywhere, paying reverence to the many scars on my body. His lips followed, and I grew reacquainted with the hard muscles of his stomach, the feel of him.
— Jennifer L. Armentrout, Apollyon
I'll drink your champagne. I'll drink every drop of it, I don't care if it kills me.
— F. Scott Fitzgerald, Gatsby Girls
I want you to lie to me just as sweetly as you know how for the rest of my life.
— F. Scott Fitzgerald, Gatsby Girls
Did you think I'd only want you once? Oh, my, you are more naïve than I thought. Why would I go through so much trouble for a mere tryst? Does a man ride a stallion but one time before condemning it to the abattoir?
— Nenia Campbell, Terrorscape
With her eyes alone she could give this response, this absolutely erotic response, as if febrile waves were trembling there, pools of madness... something devouring that could lick a man all over like a flame, annihilate him, with a pleasure never known before.
— Anaïs Nin, Little Birds
When human beings give their heartfelt allegiance to and worship that which is not God, they progressively cease to reflect the image of God. One of the primary laws of human life is that you become like what you worship; what’s more, you reflect what you worship not only to the object itself but also outward to the world around. Those who worship money increasingly define themselves in terms of it and increasingly treat other people as creditors, debtors, partners, or customers rather than as human beings. Those who worship sex define themselves in terms of it (their preferences, their practices, their past histories) and increasingly treat other people as actual or potential sex objects. Those who worship power define themselves in terms of it and treat other people as either collaborators, competitors, or pawns. These and many other forms of idolatry combine in a thousand ways, all of them damaging to the image-bearing quality of the people concerned and of those whose lives they touch.
— N.T. Wright, Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church
I want to be your last thought at night, and your first taste at dawn.
— Nenia Campbell, Horrorscape
Good lord, what have I gotten myself into?
— Aaron B. Powell, Sugar Baby
It's so screwed up, the standards...You should like it, but you shouldn't like it too much or talk about how much you like it. You should do it, but you shouldn't do it with too many people or talk about how much you're doing it. It's like there are so many rules, but none of them make sense.
— Kody Keplinger, Shut Out
Sex and battle were each dangerous in their own ways.
— Richelle Mead, Gameboard of the Gods
It’s the strangest thing about this church - it is obsessed with sex, absolutely obsessed. Now, they will say we, with our permissive society and rude jokes, are obsessed. No. We have a healthy attitude. We like it, it’s fun, it’s jolly; because it’s a primary impulse it can be dangerous and dark and difficult. It’s a bit like food in that respect, only even more exciting. The only people who are obsessed with food are anorexics and the morbidly obese, and that in erotic terms is the Catholic Church in a nutshell.
— Stephen Fry
Conquest was not satisfying if it began with a surrender.
— Nenia Campbell, Horrorscape
Not even God who made us all can kill everybody at once. He kills people one by one, and the more he kills the more people are gonna be born and grow up and go on being born and growing up and mixing, and no son-of-a-bitch is gonna stop 'em!
— Jorge Amado, Tent of Miracles
There’s nothing worse than being violently jerked away from creativity.
— Aaron B. Powell, Sugar Baby
Miriam - I'll give you any flowers you want!' Rhapsodising over the thousand scents of her body, I exclaimed: 'I'll grow orchids from your hands, roses from your breasts. You can have magnolias in your hair...!''And in my heart?''In your womb I'll set a fly-trap!
— J.G. Ballard, The Unlimited Dream Company
Chloe didn't have all the answers, either. I knew that now. But she had known something all along that I hadn't: that being ashamed of what you want or how you feel is pointless, and letting anyone else make you feel ashamed is a waste. We all wanted different things, and that was okay. Chloe wanted sex without commitment. Mary wanted to wait until she was ready. And I wasn't sure what I wanted, but I didn't want to make any decisions until I knew. And I was proud of that.
— Kody Keplinger, Shut Out
And these women were not concerned in the least that Kellan had roommates. In fact, I don't think they were even concerned that he had neighbors. Maybe they were operating under the false assumption that Kellan gave out awards for who could be the loudest... who was the more enthusiastic... who could say "Oh, God !" the most. Then again, maybe the jerk actually did give out prizes.
— S.C. Stephens
It seemed inequitable at best that one could and did gain a reputation for things that left one both physically and emotionally unsatisfied.
— Thomm Quackenbush, We Shadows
The two of you are different now, calmer. There is still sex, occasionally, but is no longer a priority to seduce or be seduced by him.
— Sarah Hall, How to Paint a Dead Man
There is little worse than when the person to whom you want to apologize is having great sex in your room.
— Thomm Quackenbush, We Shadows
You don't need sex to make love, but you need love to make sex.
— M.F. Moonzajer
weather you scream or mime , im going going to those lips with cream.
— Albert malete
Is that how you get propositioned at the court? 'Mylady, would you be so kind as to allow me to put my manhood in your vagina'?
— Erica Dakin, The Conspiracy
I grew up watching my father make plates that featured penises as centerpieces. Pink, proud, and stiff, encircled by cerulean Greek key, Dad’s creations made me feel scared and small. I saw a private part of the man I could not measure up to. At six years old, I lived in a world shaded by his ceramic glazes. There was love and color, but anger, too, in the way he kneaded his clay, palms pounding the rich, wet earth into shapes of his choosing.
— Royal Young, Fame Shark
You're so... You're too... You're..." He faltered, then took a deep breath. "I have no words for you, Sita. You leave me speechless."I smiled and pinched his buttock so he twitched. "Speechless? Gods, I've broken you. I never would have deemed it possible to render you speechless.
— Erica Dakin, The Conspiracy
Orpheus said the mind is a slide ruler. It can fit around anything. Show me your body, he said. It only means one thing.
— Sarah Ruhl, Eurydice
Roselyn adored the scent of sex, the wafting aroma of angel fontanels before they earn their halos.
— Thomm Quackenbush, We Shadows
Private moments held not a candle to coitus, not even the expensive kind of candle that made the whole room smell of far off seasons.
— Thomm Quackenbush, We Shadows
Beyond these moments, she could hardly count the fumbling ministrations of boys in high school who, even to her senior prom, never went beyond sticky pleasantries. With one exception, it was just a sort of half-clothed handshake for bragging rights, none hers.
— Thomm Quackenbush, We Shadows
Judge me if you must, but keep in mind how very little pleasure I could have possibly derived from a one-thrust sex session, a quickie in a closet, and a come-free drunken hookup. If anything, you should feel sorry for me.
— Kate  Madison, Spilled Perfume: A Memoir
I glance down his body. He's still wearing his shorts and his shirt, and I still have my T-shirt on. Jeez-- talk about wham, bam, thank you ma'am.
— E.L. James, Fifty Shades Freed
The difference between a self-induced orgasm and an orgasm given by a man is like comparing a rainy day and a rain storm. Rain was a sure thing, you knew exactly what you were going to get: a clean and crisp, both sweet and refreshing experience. But rainstorms were unpredictable, they were riddled with surprises, messy and wet; they were something you had no control over.
— Madeline Sheehan
Death is one lover who cannot be spurned.
— Nenia Campbell, Terrorscape
Treating a person as a means to an end, and an end moreover which in this case is pleasure, the maximization of pleasure, will always stand in the way of love.
— John Paul II, Love and Responsibility
I am a good lover, but that is not so difficult. It requires only that I pay attention, and watch and listen to a woman and her body." André Chevalier
— Nikki Sex, Elizabeth's Bondage
I remember that one day, when we were in a car tooling along at top speed,we crashed into a cyclist, an apparently very young and very pretty girl. Her head was almost totally ripped off by the wheels. For a long time, we were parked a few yards beyond without getting out, fully absorbed in the sight of the corpse. The horror and despair at so much bloody flesh, nauseating in part, and in part very beautiful, was fairly equivalent to our usual impression upon seeing one another.
— Georges Bataille, Story of the Eye
But you don't fuck me cold-heartedly,' she protested.'I don't want to fuck you at all.'Lady Chatterly's Lover
— D.H. Lawrence, Lady Chatterley's Lover
The amount of perfume she had on was like a human sacrifice on Incense Night.
— Stephen Moles, Life.exe
I swear to God, I think my panties just melted off my body. How can Crush just talking sex make me hot?
— Jillian Dodd, Stalk Me
I Don’t Know whether lust is a human coarseness or a human fineness: I don’t know why death holds a so sweet lure since it would take away my Body: I don’t know that I wouldn’t deny my Christ, if I had one, three times before a given cockcrow: I don’t know on the other hand that I would: I don’t know whether honor is a reality in human beings or a pose: I don’t know that I mayn’t be able to think with my Body when it is in its coffin.
— Mary MacLane, I, Mary MacLane: A Diary of Human Days
Well, what of it? If sex isn’t a joke, what is it
— Nella Larsen, Passing
Elise hid her face in his shoulder, embarassed, "Kane! What will they think?" She whispered against his neck."That we're newly bonded and I can't keep my hands off of my lovely mate." And sure enough, the good natured calls that accompanied them across the yard left her in no doubt that the others were thinking exactly that.
— Nicky Charles, The Mating
I was craving a chance at the lifelong fantasy, and I had that. That was a one-off thing. I was looking for an experience, Eric, not wanting to cultivate a habit.
— Nikki Sex, Amy's Gangbang Love Story
It was an obsession, it was a compulsion. "The way to banish temptation is to give into it," the saying went. Maybe if she experienced a gangbang, it wouldn't be such a big deal, and would no longer be the focus of her sexual imagination.
— Nikki Sex, Amy's Gangbang Love Story
Rest," he whispers against my temple, and despite my sleepiness, the feel of his lips moving across my skin makes me shiver. "I'll be here when you wake up.""Oh, God," I mumble, sliding my arm over Eli's chest and snuggling close. "Have we become that old couple that doesn't have sex anymore?"Eli's chuckle rumbles against my ear. "We had sex this morning.""Okay," I say already being pulled into slumber.
— Elle Jasper, Eventide
Sex was like the wooden horse of Troy, he decided. How uncomplicated a gift it seemed at first, but once you had let it through the gate how many unexpected dangers might be found to have stowed themselves away inside.
— Anthony McDonald, Adam
In those years I did not care to enjoy sex, only to have it. That is what seeing Alex again on Fifth Avenue brought back to me - a youth of fascinated, passionless copulation. There they are, figures in a discoloured blur, young men and not so young, the nice ones with automobiles, the dull ones full of suspicions and stinginess. By asking a thousand questions of many heavy souls, I did not learn much. You receive biographies interesting mainly for their coherence. So many are children who from the day of their birth are growing up to be their parents. Look at the voting records, inherited like flat feet.
— Elizabeth Hardwick, Sleepless Nights
You can fuck me if you want," she said. "I know a man needs to be able to say thank you - and words don't always come so easy.
— Sharon Weil, Donny and Ursula Save the World
Most people think love comes from the heart or soul. The heart simply pumps blood, so love can't be created there. Where is the center for what appears to be a person's soul? The Brain. And what is created there, Jilly? That's right--dopamine. What does dopamine do? Creates feelings of love and euphoria. How do we get our brains to create more? Drugs, massage, and/or sex. Boil it down and it's all just dopamine.
— Kaya McLaren, How I Came to Sparkle Again
Henry Miller, Genet, Sade, Bataille are really important writers for me and I love them, but I feel often they don’t love me, you know? I feel I always have to wrap my head around the way the girl is treated in the works, and the way the woman writer has been treated within their philosophies. I think of Kathy Acker’s Blood and Guts in High School, where Janey Smith is in an S&M relationship with Jean Genet, who she follows around the deserts of Algeria, and he’s horrible to her, and that’s what I think of when I think of my relationship to those writers. I think you have to read the text, obviously, despite that. You seem to be subverting Sade and Bataille’s ideas of the whore, and Henry Miller – all of his cunt portraits, all of his horrors that he writes about – you’re writing about it from an interiority and a subjectivity that we don’t typically get with the ‘whore’ or the ‘slut’ or the sexual girl.
— Kate Zambreno
I have female friends that get mails from publishers that read 'Hey. I heard you write about sex. This is a very popular topic now'.
— Martijn Benders
As a child I was a little bit disgusted and embarrassed to learn about the facts of life, and did not immediately connect the idea of “sex” to the feelings I got when I lay on the carpet on my stomach,idly humping a stuffed animal while watching Sesame Street. The realization that sex could be something to anticipate happily rather than to dread as another unpleasant grown-up duty came to me in a dream. Nothing overtly sexual even happened in this dream—it was a dream about lying in bed on a sunny afternoon with sun streaking the sheets, surrounded by warmth, feeling satisfied. It took life a long time for life to catch up with what this idealized version of sex could be like; it’s still not like that every time, but when it is, I notice.
— Emily Gould, And the Heart Says Whatever
There's few problems an orgasm won't solve.
— Michelle Foster
Ah bet she’s a dirty wee minx in the scratcher. Y’see that "butter wouldnae melt" expression she’s goat goin on? That’s jist a smokescreen – ah guarantee she goes like a train.’ Jimmy belched, considerately turning his head away to exhale.
— Jamie Holoran, Rounder's People
My essay had evolved into thinking about fucking. You could be raped a thousand times and still be a virgin. I was writing about fucking by a master and fucking as a slave, about Hegel, the comfort women and teenage porno stars. Ms. Bain and Mr. Rotowsky could fail me, I didn’t care. I’d pass just with the bibliography. I was compiling a list of every single book I’d read or that I wanted to read that was about power and sex. High school should have a whole fucking course on just this. I was helping the school make curriculum…I was writing my essay, writing easily now. I didn’t have a reader anymore like Lee or Chris but I imagined that I was writing for them both. Maybe I was writing for anyone who could fucking stand me.
— Tamara Faith Berger, Maidenhead
I always wake up early in a strange bed. I looked at Bertrand, I wonder about him. There was a sort of easy grace in whatever he did, He didn't talk much. I watched this boy sleeping beside me. God, was he tall, and handsome. I was surprised, during the night, when he's told me he was only nineteen. I never would have imagined this kind of cool confidence could come so early to a person. But nineteen, after all, wasn't so far off. I remembered how stupid I was in my relations with other people then.
— Michèle Bernstein, All the King's Horses (Semiotext
Some people have sex by putting fishhooks in each other. Couple this act with a simple understanding of the basic function of all living creatures to expand and contract. Now, try that with fishhooks.
— Sarah Schulman, Empathy
Lovers remain in each other's energy fields for 21 days after intercourse. Renewed with each act. Do the math. Choose wisely... otherwise you're carrying that stink with you for a long time...Stop having sex right now!...All of you. Until you know you're not giving yourselves away." - Sheerah
— Sharon Weil, Donny and Ursula Save the World
Don't go to sleep, Ginger-Sun.""Draz-""I know," he muttered, "'Behave, Baz. She's been through a lot. And don't make a baby for at least three months.'""They told you not to touch me for three months?""Let's just say it was strongly suggested.
— Catherine Asaro, The Fire Opal
Without pain, how could we know joy?' This is an old argument in the field of thinking about suffering and its stupidity and lack of sophistication could be plumbed for centuries but suffice it to say that the existence of broccoli does not, in any way, affect the taste of chocolate.
— John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
Walk as if you are kissing the Earth with your feet.
— Thich Nhat Hanh, Peace Is Every Step: The Path of Mindfulness in Everyday Life
When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy.
— Jalaluddin Rumi
Laughter is wine for the soul - laughter soft, or loud and deep, tinged through with seriousness - the hilarious declaration made by man that life is worth living.
— Seán O'Casey
Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.
— Thich Nhat Hanh
One can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar.
— Helen Keller, The Story of My Life
To get the full value of joy you must have someone to divide it with.
— Mark Twain
Sorrow prepares you for joy. It violently sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter. It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart, so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place. It pulls up the rotten roots, so that new roots hidden beneath have room to grow. Whatever sorrow shakes from your heart, far better things will take their place.
— Jalaluddin Rumi
I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy.
— Rabindranath Tagore
Joy multiplies when it is shared among friends, but grief diminishes with every division. That is life.
— R.A. Salvatore, Exile
Joy is what happens to us when we allow ourselves to recognize how good things really are.
— Marianne Williamson
Pan, who and what art thou?" he cried huskily."I'm youth, I'm joy," Peter answered at a venture, "I'm a little bird that has broken out of the egg.
— J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan
Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy.
— W.B. Yeats
words are like nets - we hope they'll cover what we mean, but we know they can't possibly hold that much joy, or grief, or wonder.
— Jodi Picoult, Change of Heart
If you celebrate your differentness, the world will, too. It believes exactly what you tell it—through the words you use to describe yourself, the actions you take to care for yourself, and the choices you make to express yourself. Tell the world you are one-of-a-kind creation who came here to experience wonder and spread joy. Expect to be accommodated.
— Victoria Moran, Lit From Within: Tending Your Soul For Lifelong Beauty
Singing in the rain. I'm singing in the rain. And it's such a fucking glorious feeling.
— David Levithan, Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being,the more joy you can contain.Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
— Kahlil Gibran
Comparison is the death of joy.
— Mark Twain
People from a planet without flowers would think we must be mad with joy the whole time to have such things about us.
— Iris Murdoch
Joy is to fun what the deep sea is to a puddle. It’s a feeling inside that can hardly be contained.
— Terry Pratchett, A Hat Full of Sky
There is not one blade of grass, there is no color in this world that is not intended to make us rejoice.
— John Calvin
Pure and complete sorrow is as impossible as pure and complete joy.
— Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace
Give me a moment, because I like to cry for joy. It's so delicious, John dear, to cry for joy.
— Charles Dickens, Our Mutual Friend
Among the tales of sorrow and of ruin that came down to us from the darkness of those days there are yet some in which amid weeping there is joy and under the shadow of death light that endures. And of these histories most fair still in the ears of the Elves is the tale of Beren and Lúthien
— J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion
If she know how strongly he felt, she'd have run out the door. He wasn't used to the possessive, or the savage joy she brought to his heart. It ate at his control, so he turned his attention to the music. He understood music.
— Patricia Briggs, Cry Wolf