c2p-cmd/Good-Quotes-Authors huggingface dataset:
Sex is sacred if performed as a culmination of love, if done just to satisfy the lust, it indeed dents the character.
— Girdhar Joshi, Some Mistakes Have No Pardon
Playing someone… the concept of pulling strings at all times, without the other party knowing, or even suspecting anything. Why do we do it?Because we can.
— Gina Wings, Secrets of a Perfect Hair Color: Adventures of an Urban Woman
in the most decent sometimes sun there is the softsmoke feeling from urns and the canned sound of old battleplanes and if you go inside and run your finger along the window ledge you'll find dirt, maybe even earth. and if you look out the window there will be the day, and as you get older you'll keep looking keep looking sucking your tongue in a little ah ah no no maybe some do it naturally some obscenely everywhere.
— Charles Bukowski
But you're worth crying over. So i've decided you're staying here with me all night - or at least until I've given you twenty-seven orgasms.' Gina found herself a bit breathless. 'Twenty-seven? That's a very specific number.' 'I'm a very specific sort of man. Now each up.
— Katie Fforde, A French Affair
he walks into the bedroom like he owns it. says, “i wanna be filthy with you.” takes me down hungry. helps me shed my skin. cafuné. he looked at me like i wasn’t something ruined. filled my vicious parts with gold. touched me with too much yearning. he said, “i’d burn for you.” how can he not see we’re the creators of the fire? he growled, “moan for me.” the wolf bit down and i howled into the night.
— Taylor Rhodes, calloused: a field journal
highway wildflowers swaying like the ocean. queen anne’s lace like doilies for a tea party never attended. this is a conversation between two parts of yourself. the fever will break soon, but until then i’ll be untangling you from the knots in my windblown hair. i smell like a wet forest, like long grass covered in sequins. i called your name but was drowned out by the thunder. i remember you murmuring, “please,” while you took my shirt off. i remember you and the airy “please” when you pulled me toward you by my legs. i remember “pleeease” while i learned how to let go. i remember your divine “please.” chanting it as if it’d draw a demon out of hiding. “please, please, please.” and i screamed, “yes.
— Taylor Rhodes, calloused: a field journal
holy, holy, holy dawn. my hips rocking into your face. the edge inviting. your name like dry wine on my tongue. your name branded into my inner thigh.
— Taylor Rhodes, calloused: a field journal
we are born into this world on the tailcoats of a scream. born into gritted teeth and a shock of red across the pristine. born into a solemn hush. are you evil? you, who tore into this world on a steed of crimson… are you a monster? we are born as angels, toothless, a mouth a gurgling brook. and as we grow, so do our wings, until we are high enough to see that our church is no more than a small forest and the altar a tree. are you a monster, angel with fangs? all teeth, thick with teeth, you can’t even close your mouth anymore. it rains and it’s like drowning. corn husk skin and we’re born again. into a time of being tied down, to a person, to a bed. a time of clipped wings. of holy cries out to a void. your wildness a convenience store in the desert, pale pink, dusty, arid. your wildness staring longingly at the screaming horizon and flicking another cigarette butt into the dirt, a lone oscillating fan its only company. we’re born into this concrete world, where sanctuary is to be alone or to pretend to like it. this world of broken bottles instead of leaf crunch. roadside motels proclaiming vacancies. inside and out. that pluck your heartstrings. a new church, a fresh sin. the altar now a white railing against a muted matte pink wall. you lean against it, hips jutted to the side. some of the eighties still lingers. you see a man in a leather jacket kissing a girl’s neck purple. he looks up. teeth are everywhere. hundreds of glistening teeth. you turn away. your wings shush against an old telephone booth, door forced closed. you’re calling your mother to say you’re sorry for hurting her, but when she answers you hang up.
— Taylor Rhodes, calloused: a field journal
Why is it… that temptations of the world seem to be stronger than romance? Is it because of biological imperative of reproduction
—  so wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am has to take precedence? And your prospect Special Guy finally appears to be nothing more than cheap imitation of things that might have been?
My desire to self-destruct is a one-night standon Groundhog Day.Fucking repetitive. Repetitively fucking.
— Kris Kidd, Down for Whatever
You're into what you're into, I'm into what I'm into. We don't have to be into the same shit, and if you're safe, sane, and happy, then go on and get you some.
— Matt Fraction, Sex Criminals, Vol. 3: Three the Hard Way
I'm not sure who faked their orgasm first, but thankfully it was over rather quickly.
— Donald Jans, Freaks I've Met
No riddles while we're in bed, okay?" Song Book whispers as she reaches over and wraps her hands around mine. I couldn't agree more.As far as I'm concerned, beds are meant for making love, for falling asleep in while holding hands, or for flipping over to serve as a barricade, and nothing else.
— Genichiro Takahashi, Sayonara, Gangsters
Prostitution has the same relationship to trafficking as sex has to rape. One is voluntary, the other is not
— Merlyn Gabriel Miller, Sex, Death, Drugs & Madness
Using porn to guide sexual activity, is like using Jackass to model behaviour.
— Merlyn Gabriel Miller, Sex, Death, Drugs & Madness
You're too beautiful for just a one night stand.
— Ira B.
Prostitution is illegal in many places, but porn is not. But what is porn if not sex for money, caught on camera? What the law actually prohibits then is having paid sex in private and not allowing anyone to watch.
— Merlyn Gabriel Miller, Sex, Death, Drugs & Madness
I thought masturbating was embarassing. I didn't even know why. It just was. It was like having sex with yourself. Having sex with yourself was really weird. Autoeroticism.
— Benjamin Alire Sáenz, Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe
I talk too much, but there's a lot unsaid. I've slept in a lot of beds.
— Kris Kidd, Down for Whatever
You grow bored of these shrines, and you abandon thembecause you know for a fact that you will worshipanything you kneel before.Like God.Like cock.Like porcelain.
— Kris Kidd, Down for Whatever
Sex is only boring if you are.
— Merlyn Gabriel Miller, Sex, Death, Drugs & Madness
There's stranger sex than sex with strangers.
— Kris Kidd, Down for Whatever
When these flies were put together in all-male groups they formed long, moving chains resembling conga lines, with each male attempting (unsuccessfully) to mate with the male in front of it.
— Simon LeVay, Gay, Straight, and the Reason Why: The Science of Sexual Orientation
Forget Gods, Religion, Caste, Sex, Species, Everything like every single thing - Sense it, Feel it and just be Human !
— Alamvusha
The brain appears to possess a special area which we might call poetic memory and which records everything that charms or touches us, that makes our lives beautiful. From the time he met Tereza, no woman had the right to leave the slightest impression on that part of his brain.Tereza occupied his poetic memory like a despot and exterminated all other trace of other women. That was unfair, because the young woman he made love to on the rug during the storm was not a bit less worthy of poetry than Tereza. She shouted, ‘Close your eyes! Squeeze my hips! Hold me tight!; she could not stand it that when Tomas made love he kept his eyes open, focused and observant, his body ever so slightly arched above her, never pressing against her skin. She did now want him to study her. She wanted to draw him into the magic stream that may be entered only with closed eyes. [..] She wanted to merge with him. [..] 'It’s not sensual pleasure I’m after,’ she would say, 'it’s happiness. And pleasure without happiness is not pleasure.’ In other words, she was pounding on the gate of his poetic memory. But the gate was shut. There was no room for her in his poetic memory. There was room for her only on the rug.
— Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being
Sex is not an exam and you do not need an orgasm to pass.
— Merlyn Gabriel Miller, Sex, Death, Drugs & Madness
...there's a hundred ways sex can ruin you but there's no end to the ways love can.
— Megan Abbott, You Will Know Me
The Baron was good with two things: sex, and death. And what was sex anyway—what was orgasm but what the French (those cunning linguists of the language of love) referred to as a Little Death? What was life but a ticking clock toward the grave, and how did life start but with an unfettered hump toward morning?
— Daniel Younger, Zen and the Art of Cannibalism: A Zomedy
There is no such thing as safe sex, since no one can create a condom for the soul.
— Jayce O'Neal
14. God created two sexes, male and female. They are equal in worth, although each is unique and different. It is not only impossible to blend maleness and femaleness into a single sex (unisex), it is dangerous to even attempt it.
— James C. Dobson, Life on the Edge: The Next Generation's Guide to a Meaningful Future
Let's pretend you are capable of being who I think I need you to be: a love story.
— Melissa Broder, So Sad Today: Personal Essays
People say memories are there to be cherished. I believe memories are there to be created, and if you do something worthwhile today, you will stop living in the past
— James Perrin, The Occasional Swearing Of Passionate Perrin
Tomas led a young woman by the hand and walked up into the foothills. Millian, the miner from Rosario, had introduced her to the patron, already buying points for himself. He was no fool. And the girl, no fool either, lifted her skirts for Tomas as he knelt before her, licking his way up her thighs -brown and sweet as candy, at the same time, tart and salty, musky, silken and cold in the warm air, refreshing as the sorbet he licked in Culiacan back when he was a student. She was amazed that this bit of her body could the great master to his knees before her. She was perhaps the most beautiful girl on that whole plain, but he did not her name and felt no need to ask. He pressed his face to her underwear, redolent with the burning scent of her, and he pulled the cotton down, over the bright points of her hips , the shadowy curve of her belly, until the fog of dark hair came into his sight, soft in the moonlight, tickling his face as he bent down to her again. He pressed his lips on the mound of her, breathing her in, tasting her like a dog, as her skirts fell over his head and her fingers pulled his head tighter to her, her legs moving apart in the dark, her beauty falling around him, his greatest gift to him, this flavor, this smell, her scent.
— Luis Alberto Urrea, The Hummingbird's Daughter
I believe she imbued my body thus, finding every touch enhanced by ambiguity of intention, as if it too required translation, and so each touch branched out, became a variety of touches.
— Ben Lerner, Leaving the Atocha Station
Sorry girls, not every man is running after what you think...
— Eyden I., Kiss Friendzone Goodbye
The anxiety of the sexual act is my sexual act: a love story.
— Melissa Broder, So Sad Today: Personal Essays
As my muscles marginally relax, the tension flicks from anger to fevered desire. I want to tear each wisp of clothing off her and tie her to this f**king desk. I’ll know next time, to bring my satin ribbon.
— M.R. Field, Fractures
It goes without saying that a great majority of men are sex addicts, or would be if they could manage to get laid.
— Drew Nellins Smith, Arcade
If being premenstrual is “innocence,” does that make those of us with periods guilty? And this really gets to the heart of the matter: These concerns aren't about lost innocence; they're about lost girlhood. The virginity movement doesn't want women to be adults. Despite the movement's protestations about how this focus on innocence or preserving virginity is just a way of protecting girls, the truth is, it isn't a way to desexualize them. It simply positions their sexuality as “good”— worth talking about, protecting, and valuing—and women's sexuality, adult sexuality, as bad and wrong. The (perhaps) unintended consequences of this focus is that girl's sexuality is sexualized and fetishized even further.
— Jessica Valenti, The Purity Myth: How America's Obsession with Virginity is Hurting Young Women
When Malingeau drew himself from his long sleep, the music was still droning in his head. Christelle was already gone. She had taken care to scribble a line on a scrap of paper."I drank your body until my thirst was worn.
— Fiston Mwanza Mujila
Herbenick invited me to sit in on the Human Sexuality class she was about to teach, one of the most popular courses on Indiana’s campus. She was, on that day, delivering a lecture on gender disparities in sexual satisfaction. More than one hundred fifty students were already seated in the classroom when we arrived, nearly all of them female, most dressed in sweats, their hair pulled into haphazard ponytails. They listened raptly as Herbenick explained the vastly different language young men and young women use when describing “good sex.” “Men are more likely to talk about pleasure, about orgasm,” Herbenick said. “Women talk more about absence of pain. Thirty percent of female college students say they experience pain during their sexual encounters as opposed to five percent of men.” The rates of pain among women, she added, shoot up to 70 percent when anal sex is included. Until recently, anal sex was a relatively rare practice among young adults. But as it’s become disproportionately common in porn—and the big payoff in R-rated fare such as Kingsman and The To Do List—it’s also on the rise in real life. In 1992 only 16 percent of women aged eighteen to twenty-four said they had tried anal sex. Today 20 percent of women eighteen to nineteen have, and by ages twenty to twenty-four it’s up to 40 percent. A 2014 study of heterosexuals sixteen to eighteen years old—and can we pause for a moment to consider just how young that is?—found that it was mainly boys who pushed for “fifth base,” approaching it less as a form of intimacy with a partner (who they assumed would both need to be and could be coerced into it) than a competition with other boys. Girls were expected to endure the act, which they consistently reported as painful. Both sexes blamed that discomfort on the girls themselves, for being “naïve or flawed,” unable to “relax.” Deborah Tolman has bluntly called anal “the new oral.” “Since all girls are now presumed to have oral sex in their repertoire,” she said, “anal sex is becoming the new ‘Will she do it or not?’ behavior, the new ‘Prove you love me.’” And still, she added, “girls’ sexual pleasure is not part of the equation.” According to Herbenick, the rise of anal sex places new pressures on young women to perform or else be labeled a prude. “It’s a metaphor, a symbol in one concrete behavior for the lack of education about sex, the normalization of female pain, and the way what had once been stigmatized has, over the course of a decade, become expected. If you don’t want to do it you’re suddenly not good enough, you’re frigid, you’re missing out, you’re not exploring your sexuality, you’re not adventurous.
— Peggy Orenstein, Girls & Sex: Navigating the Complicated New Landscape
Sex, like death, was important, and yet why did no one seem to care enough to ask the questions that mattered?
— Sharon Guskin, The Forgetting Time
The truth is, people are ravenous for sex, sociopaths for love. I sometimes like to daydream that if we were all somehow simultaneously outed as lechers and perverts and sentimental slobs, it might be, after the initial shock of disillusionment, liberating. It might be a relief to quit maintaining this rigid pose of normalcy and own up to the outlaws and monsters we are.
— Tim Kreider, We Learn Nothing
Sorry girls, not every man is running after what you think.
— Eyden I., Woman's Book: Only For Men
Thus, one of the awful things I can admit about myself is that the two years I spent with Jennifer live in my mind mostly as a series of frantic, breathy memories. Clawing hands tugging off clothes, heartbeat thumping in my ears, fingernails digging down my back. salty tastes lingering in my mouth. It's biology. It's hormones. As time passes I can recall fewer and fewer of our conversations and I couldn't give you the details of our five most-fun dates (though I have a fairly graphic vision of how each of them ended).If upon hearing this you pump your fist and wink knowingly, you can kiss my ass. She was a good friend to me. She put up with my bullshit and at times not even I can put up with my bullshit. But all that is gone and what is left is a big, black hole where the sex used to be.
— David Wong, John Dies at the End
To think, somebody had suicided for that.
— Charles Bukowski, Ham on Rye
Sex always sells-always has, always will.
— Bruce Golden
Chance waited patiently until she stopped.
— Jerzy Kosiński, Being There
I am afraid of sex as sex is defined by the dominant culture, as practiced all around me, and projected onto magazine pages, billboards, and movie screens. I am afraid of sex because I am afraid of domination, cruelty, violence, and death. I am afraid of sex because sex has hurt me and hurt lots of people I know, and because I have hurt others with sex in the past. I know that there are people out there who have been hurt by sex in ways that are beyond words, who have experienced a depth of pain that I will never fully understand. And I know there are people who are dead because of sex. Yes, I am afraid of sex. How could I not be?
— Robert Jensen
My sweet naughty girl I got your hot letter tonight and have been trying to picture you frigging your cunt in the closet. How do you do it? Do you stand against the wall with your hand tickling up under your clothes or do you squat down on the hole with your skirts up and your hand hard at work in through the slit of your drawers? Does it give you the horn now to shit? I wonder how you can do it. Do you come in the act of shitting or do you frig yourself off first and then shit? It must be a fearfully lecherous thing to see a girl with her clothes up frigging furiously at her cunt, to see her pretty white drawers pulled open behind and her bum sticking out and a fat brown thing stuck half-way out of her hole. You say you will shit your drawers, dear, and let me fuck you then. I would like to hear you shit them, dear, first and then fuck you. Some night when we are somewhere in the dark and talking dirty and you feel your shite ready to fall put your arms round my neck in shame and shit it down softly. The sound will madden me and when I pull up your dress.
— James Joyce
The things this man does to me are beyond what I feel should be possible. Butterflies. Fucking butterflies. Damn him.
— Dennis Sharpe, Distant Thunder
In fact, it has been said that when you have sex with someone, you are actually having sex with everyone who ever slept with that individual.
— James C. Dobson, Life on the Edge: A Young Adult's Guide to a Meaningful Future
If you put your heart into it, you can write 30 sex scenes and have each one be different, and just as exciting as the one before it.
— Nadlee Thims, Mr. Montgomery
And I dare say most people don't think too deeply on sex, beyond what they've been taught through the media and society.
— Abigail Barnette, The Stranger
Lola found herself staring at him when he turned back to the road. He was tall enough that his dark, wavy hair touched the roof of the car, and so broad his sculpted bicep continually brushed against her bare upper arm, sending shivers straight to her nipples and between her legs. She crossed her thighs, disgusted with herself, and vowed not to start lusting after this jerk.
— Sweden Reese, The Southern Gentleman: Protective Instinct
She--the unnamed lady--simply drew his hands to the Paleolithic places men always have grown tumid from feeling, like the outward cradle of the hips within which a fetus will reside and her breasts that will nourish it, once born.
— Edward Hoagland, In the Country of the Blind: A Novel
Mr. Montgomery pushes the envelope. It's everything we shouldn't do, yet, he makes us want to, anyway.
— Nadlee Thims, Mr. Montgomery
Your generation has been the target of incredible disinformation on the subject of premarital sex, which is another enticing addictive behavior to be considered. In this instance, our own government is responsible for much of the confusion. For some thirty years, federal and state programs have promoted a concept its promoters call "safe sex," which refers to the use of condoms in sexual intercourse. Billions of dollars have been spent telling young people that they can have sex—lots of really good sex—without suffering from the consequences of it. Condoms, they say, will solve all the problems.
— James C. Dobson, Life on the Edge: A Young Adult's Guide to a Meaningful Future
With Mr. Montgomery, I set out to see what it would be like to write a novel in 30 days. It was hell! I'd do it again in a minute.
— Nadlee Thims, Mr. Montgomery
Even if you have been having sex for years with many people, you can still become a "secondary virgin." That occurs when you repent of previous sexual sins and then determine not to be intimate with anyone until you are married. It will require discipline to stay in the hallway of doors, but it still bring the sweet benefits of healthiness, greater self-respect, and above all, harmony with the King. He will honor you for doing what is right.
— James C. Dobson, Life on the Edge: A Young Adult's Guide to a Meaningful Future
Always remember, darling girl, men love the pussy and their dicks are always fiending for attention. If you’re not around to give it to them, they’ll get it somewhere else and the novelty of new lips and a new cunt might shock them so much they’ll think they’re in love.
— Katie Ayres, At Daddy's Service 1
Guy believed everything in sex should be done slowly so as not to scare the wildlife and to ensure his own natural grace and poise.
— Edmund White, Our Young Man
We display outrageously and obsessively that which we do not possess or have deeply at our disposal. If we are displaying sex with unseemly exaggeration and preoccupation then we have not found the heart of sex.
— Thomas  Moore
He was taking Kevin’s cherry! The words made him harder and made him feel privileged, masterful, married. He thought how many men would pay unlimited amounts to have this inaugurating experience with this boy. He didn’t want to feel like a middle-aged paedophile, he didn’t even want to think all this would make a good porn film. He wanted every thrust, every second, to be laden with tenderness, a salute from him to Kevin, a deep recognition. He wanted Kevin to like what was being done to him, to push back for another joyous millimetre of penetration. He didn’t want him to label it Guy’s First Fuck or Kevin’s First Time. He didn’t want the idea and the label to crowd out the sensation or to sharpen it; he wanted it to be pure sex, undramatised.
— Edmund White, Our Young Man
May I not safely credit her assertions? Will it not be easy for me to forget her sex, and still consider her as my Friend and my disciple? Surely her love is as pure as She describes. Had it been the offspring of mere licentiousness, would She so long have concealed it in her own bosom?
— Matthew Lewis, The Monk: A Romance
It's all about sex and territory,which are what will finish us offin the long run.
— Margaret Atwood, Morning in the Burned House
You have a freckle,” he murmured. “Right” – he leaned down and dropped a light kiss near the inside of her elbow – “here.” “You’ve seen it before,” she said softly. It wasn’t in an immodest spot; she had plenty of frocks with short sleeves. He chuckled. “But I’ve never given it it’s proper due.” “Really.” “Mmm-hmm.” He lifted her arm, twisting it just a bit so that he could pretend to be studying her freckle. “It is clearly the most delightful beauty mark in all of England.” A marvelous sense of warmth and contentment melted through her. Even as her body burned for his, she could not stop herself from encouraging his teasing conversation. “Only England?” “Well, I haven’t traveled very extensively abroad…” “Oh, really?” “And you know…” His voice dropped to a husky growl. “There may be other freckles right here in this room. You could have one here.” He dipped a finger under the bodice of her nightgown, then moved his other hand to her hip. “Or here.” “I might,” she agreed. “The back of your knee,” he said, the words hot against her ear. “You could have one there.” She nodded. She wasn’t sure she was still capable of speech. “One of your toes,” he suggested. “Or your back.” “You should probably check,” she managed to get out. He took a deep, shuddering breath.
— Julia Quinn, Because of Miss Bridgerton
If children learn of sex as a relation between their parents to which they owe their own existence, they learn of it in its best form and in connection with its biological purpose.
— Bertrand Russell, Marriage and Morals
... what I wanted to get at is the value difference between pornographic playing cards when you're a kid, and pornographic playing cards when you're older. It's that when you're a kid you use the cards as a substitute for a real experience, and when you're older you use real experience as a substitute for the fantasy.
— Edward Albee, The American Dream & The Zoo Story
People who just had sex had an annoying habit of assuming everyone around them had just had sex. Which was also, coincidentally, what people who were not having sex assumed.
— Sloane Crosley, The Clasp
With each kiss in the cold house  we swallow clouds of breath – exhaled spirit, speech bubbles  we’d rather lick away  than fill with words. We run naked from room to room,  keeping the walls warm.  Our bodies blur through the halls  of your house, its winter circulation.
— Jalina Mhyana, The Wishing Bones
For the inexperienced, however, it is very difficult to distinguish passionate love from mere sex hunger; especially is this the case with well-brought-up girls, who have been taught that they could not possibly like to kiss a man unless they loved him.
— Bertrand Russell, Marriage and Morals
Somewhere along the way, I discovered that in the physical act of cooking, especially something complex or plain old hard to handle, dwelled unsuspected reservoirs of arousal both gastronomic and sexual.
— Julie Powell
When we are children, play comes to us naturally, but our capacity for play collapses as we age. Sex often remains the last arena of play we can permit ourselves, a bridge to our childhood. Long after the mind has been filled with injunctions to be serious, the body remains a free zone, unencumbered by reason and judgment. In lovemaking, we can recapture the utterly uninhibited movement of the child, who has not yet developed self-consciousness before the judging gaze of others.
— Esther Perel, Mating in Captivity: Reconciling the Erotic and the Domestic
The man at the end of the bar was looking at me. ... Should I get drunk and sleep with him now? But I could see that I would regret that so much I would want to die after. I didn't want to get involved with anyone, and I didn't want to bear being alone with the warmth left by someone long gone.
— Fuminori Nakamura, The Kingdom
Sex can be the result of love, but never the cause of it.
— Clifford Cohen
Sex is the divine in its most available epiphany.
— Huston Smith
That’s the dream of sex, isn’t it? That you will be liberated from the prison of the body by the body itself, at long last desired, its strange tongue understood.
— Olivia Laing
Sex and love represent one of the numerous absurdities and hopeless incongruences demarking human nature. A person whom only seeks out sex and eschews love will live a barren existence. Sex without love is a brute display of physical reproductive capacity. Sex is not a worthless or stupid activity when it forms a cog in a loving and affectionate relationship. Sex and love might not make the world go round, but when joined they make it a better place to live in.
— Kilroy J. Oldster, Dead Toad Scrolls
Is sex a cure for loneliness, and if it is, what happens if our body or sexuality is considered deviant or damaged, if we are ill or unblessed with beauty?
— Olivia Laing, The Lonely City: Adventures in the Art of Being Alone
Don’t waste your life trying to fill up a hollow or a hollow be filled up because it not only makes your life shallow but your conscious hollow.
— Amit Abraham
For example, when Christians discuss sex, it often sounds as if we are somehow "against sex". What we fail to make clear is that sexual passion (the good gifts of God's creation) is now subservient to the demanding business of maintaining a revolutionary community in a world that often uses sex as a means of momentarily anesthetizing or distracting people from the basic vacuity of their lives. When the only contemporary means of self-transcendence is orgasm, we Christians are going to have a tough time convincing people that it would be nicer if they were not promiscuous.
— Stanley Hauerwas, Resident Aliens: Life in the Christian Colony
The emotion of sex brings into being a state of mind.
— Napoleon Hill, Think and Grow Rich
To say 'I want to have sex with this person' is to express a desire which is not intellectually directed in the way that 'I want to eradicate poverty in the world' is an intellectually directed desire. Furthernore, the gratification of sexual desire can only ever give temporary satisfaction. Thus as Nagarjuna, the great Indian scholar said: 'When you have an itch, you scratch. But not to itch at all is better than any amount of scratching.
— Dalai Lama XIV, Freedom in Exile: The Autobiography of the Dalai Lama
It wasn’t that her dress was revealing, not by current standards, but the fitted bodice and flaring skirt played with a man’s imagination in a maddening way. It would be easy access to put her over his knee, flip up the skirt and warm her luscious ass with the palm of his hand.
— Sweden Reese, The Southern Gentleman: Protective Instinct
I would like to stop wordplaying, and see you.
— Waylon H. Lewis, Things I Would Like To Do With You
But damn if there isn't anything sexier than a slender boy with a handgun, a fast car, a bottle of pills.
— Richard Siken, Crush
Finally, the dirty little secret about sexual objectification is that it is an act that cannot be performed with any attention to its ethical meaning. Experientially —from the point of view of a man who is sexually objectifying—sexual objectification and ethical self awareness are mutually exclusive. A man cannot reflect on what he is doing and its real consequences for real people and at the same time fully accomplish the act of sexual objectifying. There's no way it can be done, because hos own subjective reality is too contingent upon the unreality of someone else. All that can be left "out there" in his field of awareness is the other person's sexedness—an abstract representation of a gender—in comparison with which his own sexedness may flourish and engorge. So it is that a man shuts off his capacity for ethical empathy—whatever capacity he may ever had—in order to commit an act of despersonalization that is "gratifying" essentially because it functions to fulfill his sense of an identity that is authentically male.
— John Stoltenberg
What's this business about the 'little man in the canoe?' If it's big enough for a canoe, it's too big for me.
— Quentin R. Bufogle, Horse Latitudes
I would have gone to bed with him that night. If he had asked. If he had come and kissed me. Not for his sake, but for being alive's.
— John Fowles
I lay in bed last night and thought of G.P. I thought of being in bed with him. I wanted to be in bed with him. I wanted the marvellous, the fantastic ordinariness of him. His promiscuity is creative. Vital. Even though it hurts. He creates love and life and excitement around him; he lives; the people he loves always remember him.I've always felt like it sometimes. Promiscuous. Anyone I see, even just some boy in the Tube, some man, I think what he would be like in bed. I look at their mouths and their hands, put on a prim expression and think about them having me in bed.Even Toinette, getting into bed with anyone. I used to think it was messy. But love is beautiful, any love. Even just sex.
— John Fowles
Some women would not have contracted an STD or STDs had they not been on the pill.
— Mokokoma Mokhonoana
But the idea of an Aryan race could never become metaphysically true, despite all the violence unleashed to create it, because there simply is no Aryan race. There is only the idea of it—and the consequences of trying to make it seem real. The male sex is very like that.
— John Stoltenberg, Refusing to be a Man: Essays on Sex and Justice
The easy joy and the joyful ease of sex with men, their easy-access genitalia, their uncomplicated inner lives…
— Nell Zink, Mislaid
If you look at all the variables in nature that are saidto determine human “sex,” you can’t possibly find one that will unequivocally split the species into two. Each of the so-called criteria of sexedness is itself a continuum—including chromosomal variables, genital and gonadal variations,reproductive capacities, endocrinological proportions, and any other criterion you could think of. Any or all of these different variables may line up in any number of ways, and all of the variables may vary independently of one another.
— John Stoltenberg, Refusing to be a Man: Essays on Sex and Justice
They have sex. They do not have a sex. In their erotic lives, they are not required to act out their status in a category system—because there is no category system. There are no sexes to belong to, so sex between creatures is free to be between genuine individuals—not representatives of a category. They have sex. They do not have a sex.
— John Stoltenberg, Refusing to be a Man: Essays on Sex and Justice
Fuck me, Sonny!” She cried. I did. She came immediately. I felt like I was trying to board a moving train wearing roller skates.
— Sonny Duncan
Galeni made her smile but not laugh. The lack of any sense of play between them worried Miles
—  you had to have a keen sense of humor to do sex and stay sane.
While it might have surprised onlookers, undergraduates in the 2000s were in fact having less sex than their predecessors in the 1980s and '90s - if you accepted their definition of sex as vaginal intercourse. (Those of us who grew up during the Clinton years learned from our president that activities other than intercourse do not constitute "sexual relations," however intimate they may be.)
— Moira Wegel
for the first time in his life, sex is located away from all danger, away from conflict and drama, away from persecution, away from any accusation, away from worries; he has nothing to take care of, love is taking care of him, love as he's always wanted it and never had it: love-repose; love-oblivion; love-desertion; love-carefreeness; love-meaningless.
— Milan Kundera, Ignorance
The situation is very slightly solemn and thus embarrassing, as are all such situations when after the initial lovemaking, the lovers confront a future they are suddenly required to take on.
— Milan Kundera, Ignorance
It won’t be disagreeable,” he said. “It can be made quite enjoyable.”“Oh, it had better be,” she said tartly. “I’ve heard plenty over the years on your amatory prowess. If I’m not on the roof crowing, I will consider myself disappointed.
— Sherry Thomas, Ravishing the Heiress
She is emerging (she has no choice) / into a place / like sex or childbirth, / one thing to the observer, something very different to the participant.
— Kathleen Ossip, The Do-Over
Sometimes rebuffing him was a difficult, but this evening Margo whispered something about the prohibition on sex during the Yom Kippur holiday--as if they were a family of rabbis!--and he gave in and turned on his side. Rejected and repelled, he would fall into his nighttime sleep; in just a few moments she would hear that sound she hated, the heavy breathing that would rise to his nostrils and turn into a saw-like din, and Margo would wonder whether to shake him or let him be. If she awaken him, there was a chance he might start probing all over again; if she let him snore, he would disrupt her thinking, and she would not be able to give herself over to the brilliant idea she had come up with while staring in the mirror.
— Anat Talshir, About the Night
It's true that increasing one's number of sexual partners almost certainly increases the risk of sexually transmitted disease and of unintended pregnancy. It increases the chance of having your soul stomped on, and of having really bad sex. It also, I should add, increases the odds of finding someone with whom you have terrific sex, and learning more about what turns you on and what turns you off, how your body works and how other people's bodies work.
— Rebecca Traister, All the Single Ladies: Unmarried Women and the Rise of an Independent Nation
I'm evil, know it, and enjoy it.
— Robert Thier, The Robber Knight's Love
I can get on with someone really, really, really well… and if they’re no good at having sex with me, it really upsets me, because I think, “oh God, this is someone I’d really like to spend the rest of my life with, but I cannot face having bad sex for the rest of my life.
— Lily Allen
Sex does not thrive on monotony. Without feeling, inventions, moods,no surprises in bed. Sex must be mixed with tears, laughter, words, promises, scenes, jealousy, envy, all the spices of fear, foreign travel, new faces, novels, stories, dreams, fantasies, music, dancing, opium, wine.
— Anaïs Nin
Life occasionally humbles us by making us turned on by someone whom we turn off.
— Mokokoma Mokhonoana
I'm after a woman who likes sex but doesn't put the lust part above the intelligence part. She could have a hundred partners for all I care, just as long as they've been vetted for psychopathic tendencies. I have four rules. Number one: don't invite a person into your body if you wouldn't invite her into your kitchen. Number two: the act needs to take place in a clean environment. Number three: precautions need to be taken to protect from disease and pregnancy. And Number four: don't ration the passion, i.e. put you best fuck forward.
— Penny Reid, Grin and Beard It
Sex loses all its power and magic when it becomes explicit, mechanical, overdone, when it becomes a mechanistic obsession. It becomes a bore. You have taught us more than anyone I know how wrong it is not to mix it with emotion, hunger, desire, lust, whims, caprices, personal ties, deeper relationships that change its color, flavor, rhythms, intensities.
— Anaïs Nin, Delta of Venus
She thinks, I'm telling him who I am. He's interested in who I am. That is true, but I am curious about who she is because I want to fuck her.
— Philip Roth
In every woman, Claude had told Mickey, there is a need rarely satisfied by men, a need for simply caressing, and she had described how one of her women friends loved to cares the 'neutral parts' of her body for hours at a time. The neutral parts were the shoulders, the arms, the throat, the back, the parts that men seemd to forget. The insatiable desire for tenderness was felt most strongly in these neutral parts, wich were so rarely caressed. Men made love each in his fashion, more or less expertly, according to Claude, and they were especially fond of those things in women that were different from their own bodies.
— Tereska Torrès, Women's Barracks
Pearl-colored light flowed over the far horizon and sparkled in the dewy drops beaded in spider webs. Everything was still - only the gulls and a turtle lazing on a rock observed their presence.
— Kathleen Valentine, Depraved Heart: A Novel
AIDS would have claimed fewer lives if we had publicly recommended what I wish to call ‘The Presumption of Sickness,’ i.e., the principle that whomever we are about to sleep with is HIV-positive until proven HIV-negative.
— Mokokoma Mokhonoana
Desi has loved me ever since the lie, I know he pictures making love to me, how gentle and reassuring he would be as he plunged into me, stroking my hair. I know he pictures me crying softly as I give myself to him.
— Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl
...I thought, God, I promise to stay a virgin, just please don't let anyone probe me.
— Stephanie Tromly
sex is just not about love or pleasure; it has its share of passion, hard work and creativity.
— Subhasis Das, I.T. Hurts
Nat realised they had a lot of talking to do, but she did question Isabella’s timing. In her experience, matters of the heart should not be discussed when one party had a silicone cock strapped to their waist while the other's mouth went dry at the thought of it entering her.
— Harper Bliss, Close Enough
Sex now seemed a strange thing to me, a social rite that registered, even brought about shifts in the balance of power, but something that was more discussed than performed, a simple emission of fluid that somehow generated religious, social and economic consequences.
— Edmund White, A Boy's Own Story
They have been having sex for eighteen months now (he realizes he has to make himself stop counting, as if his sexual life is a prison term, and he is working toward its completion).
— Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life
They were like waking up to what was being done to their malenky persons and saying that they wanted to go home and like I was a wild beast. They looked like they had been in some big bitva, as indeed they had, and were all bruised and pouty. Well, if they would not go to school they must have there education. And education they had had.
— Anthony Burgess
So it isn't that the act is awful, but sometimes the man is.""Exactly. One's modesty is useless and it's painfully intimate, but not awful." She took a deep breath."The opposite, in fact.
— Linda Howard, A Lady of the West
... You asked how am I?? Really?? So you care about me?? or you just decided to ask to return it back because people have learnt you to return everything back, what he has done to you to do the same to him. To behave in the same way, yeah but without curiousity to focus on this is like to go and get fucked by everyone starting from the bin guy (the guy who search food in the garbage) up to the guy who is rich. If you like that, I will say that there is some kind of problem with you, how can you even havee a sex with the garbage man.... oh, oh yeah if you are one of them you are out of this place. If you help this garbage man to succeed it goes that he develops something better and from poor up to rich... But to reach there you need time, you need to believe in that person, but again doesn't it disgusting this thing. Look it from side like Monk, how can you even touch such person??
— Deyth Banger
Robbers’ Hill and its surrounding area were extremely safe for women. In the last two decades, there had been no incident of molestation or rape in and around the village. People in the region both feared and respected Bhagatji.There lived two eunuchs in the village. There was a fable in the village that years ago these eunuchs were men who had sexually assaulted a local woman. Bhagatji punished them. Since then they had been like this.
— Ravi Ranjan Goswami, The Robbers' Hill
People spent their lives searching for something beyond the simple friction of skin on skin, but there was nothing. The void between two people could never be closed, and in trying to close it, they would only learn everything that was to be despised in the other.
— Maggie Shipstead, Seating Arrangements
Unbutton, unzip, unclip, untie, undo, undress.”“Understood,” she replied.
— Michael Faudet, Dirty Pretty Things
- Maybe you're a succubus who hunts for my flesh? Or Mephistopheles, who hunts for my soul?- Oh, no! I am much worse: succubus wants body, Mephistopheles wants soul, but I want you all, with your flesh and soul!
— Bryanna Reid, Ветви Дуба
- If a woman wears short skirt in the company of man it means "I want to fuck", if she talks with a man when she wears short skirt it means "I want to fuck just you".- And if I have no clothes now?- It means that I'm gonna fuck you right now!
— Bryanna Reid, Ветви Дуба
Lady Godiva costume is the most suitable clothes for young red ladies.
— Bryanna Reid
Rachel moans, “Great. Well, he’s not the only one sexually frustrated.”I laugh. “Well, then get over these issues so you both can be relieved.”“How’s Alex?” She raises an eyebrow at me.“I’m sure fine,” I say defensively. “I haven’t seen him in a few weeks.”“Really? I thought he made a nightly appearance.” “Rachel, those dreams aren’t him. It’s my f’ed up brain replaying my memories as a form of torture...
— Isabelle Joshua, The Bluebird
Finally he must have noticed his vice grip on Austin, because he made a disgusted face and threw Austin’s arms down. “I am the Dom here. I am in charge,” he insisted, but then all the anger left his voice. “And being in charge means controlling myself—my own urges—too. Maybe more so than I ever try to control you.” He petted Austin’s hair. Leaned in to press their foreheads together briefly, the way he always did when he was overcome with one of those emotions he refused to tell Austin about.
— Heidi Belleau, Straight Shooter
Ah, I love this; I love...your mouth on me.” He feels so good. Ah. His fingers replace his tongue. My emotions bubble up to the surface, screaming for release. I want to tell him how I feel. My eyes gloss with tears. I love him. I love you. I love you. Alex, I love you.
— Isabelle Joshua, The Swallow
Sex without love is like a meal without nutrition
—  neither satisfying nor sustaining.
There are two things we must get rid of early in life: a feeling of personal superiority and an exaggerated reverence for the sexual act.
— Ayn Rand
Sex spelled backwards is excess and that's how it should always be.
— Chloe Thurlow, Katie in Love
I don’t know what came over me.” Charlie smiled. He drew her to him and kissed her. “Me,” he said.
— Luggs, Cross Patch
Sex is a three letter word even the worst speller in the world can spell.
— Chloe Thurlow, Katie in Love
Love is displacement of life and moments. People ask in gaping bewilderment, "am I in love? is this love? Is it real love?" No one has to ask, "Have I been fucked?
— Glenn Hefley
Like sexual intercourse, death needs foreplay.
— Martin Page, The Discreet Pleasures of Rejection
Once they were both naked and pressed together again, with Christian’s mouth on one of Max’s nipples and Max’s hands on Christian’s inner thighs, Christian was struck by how intense it was, how urgent and powerful and deep this wanting went. All his life he was raised to believe—wanted to believe—that desire was a superficial thing, something you worked through and, if you were disciplined and moral, ultimately put aside in favour of deeper, more important pursuits.
— Heidi Belleau, Apple Polisher
To see you naked is to recall the Earth.
— Garcia Lorca
Shower sex sucks," Meryn announced loudly.Elizabeth leaned forward dying to know what prompted that statement. "What happened?""Slippery surfaces and not the good kind, one." Meryn started ticking off reasons on her fingers. "Water not a natural lubricant, two. Height differences, three. And I got a freaking charley horse right when..." Aiden covered her mouth at that point.Ahh. So someone had fun and someone didn't. Poor Meryn.
— Alanea Alder, My Protector
Erotic attraction often serves as the catalyst for an intimate connection between two people, but it is not a sign of love. Exciting, pleasurable sex can take place between two people who do not even know each other. Yet the vast majority of males in our society are convinced that their erotic longing indicates who they should, and can, love. Led by their penis, seduced by erotic desire, they often end up in relationships with partners with whom they share no common interests of values.
— bell hooks, All About Love: New Visions
I do not understand this man," [Tempi] said. "Is he attempting to buy sex with me? Or does he wish to fight?
— Patrick Rothfuss, The Wise Man's Fear
But a far more virulent strain survived. It's having sex with your thoughts. You'll give birth to increasingly more monstrous ideas.
— Grant Morrison, Nameless