Sex Quotes - Page 194

that pathetic short-cut suggested by Nature the supreme joker as a remedy for our loneliness, that ephemeral communion which we persuade ourselves to be of the spirit when it is in fact only of the body - durable not even in memory!

It was strange to think that all the great women of fiction were, until Jane Austen's day, not only seen by the other sex, but seen only in relation to the other sex. And how small a part of woman's life is that.

But the novels of women were not affected only by the necessarily narrow range of the writer's experience. They showed, at least in the nineteenth century, another characteristic which may be traced to the writer's sex. In Middlemarch and in Jane Eyre we are conscious not merely of the writer's character, as we are conscious of the character of Charles Dickens, but we are conscious of a woman's presence of someone resenting the treatment of her sex and pleading for its rights.

If you insist upon fighting to protect me, or 'our' country, let it be understood soberly and rationally between us that you are fighting to gratify a sex instinct which I cannot share; to procure benefits where I have not shared and probably will not share.

With sex scenes and intense scenes, in general, a lot of it is preparation before the scenes happen, so that you don't have to worry about it on set.

You'd have thought they'd have been on about Sir Elton John, and the fantastic goals David has scored which have got us through to the World Cup. But what they were really interested in was that I was holding a bag that had 'Sex' written on it. It's quite bizarre.

It is dog friendly nail polish, before we even go there because I know that is an issue. She's a bulldog, she needs all the help she can get. We've tried to feminize her a little bit and make her feel sexy!

France lost a great novel last night.

It is easier to tell our therapist about our sex life than it is to tell our accountant about our finances.

In some of my works I take away other elements of the world - normalcy, sex drive, sense of time, memory, a loved one. Without some of these basics, characters have no choice but to do something to reclaim their lives.

Remembrance of our kiss brings not your lips nor mine to mind. The flesh can only envy consumption so divine.

Sex in space (Earth included) far exceeds our wildest imaginations, and is more than a big bang, that's for sure, it's cosmic.

Sex in space is not just a good idea, it's survival.

Your mouth on mine our bridge to cross and serve where we would go. Utopia of sensations the flesh could never know.

I became a total yes. We don't even have names anymore.

Your kisses are thieves which leave me wanting nothing.

Human forms are perpetuated through sex, and sex also perpetuates human consciousness.

I don't use sex to sell records, obviously, but I'd be lying if I said that I don't feel like I have to make an effort to look good when I go out onstage, to wear something pretty.

The problem isn't that the green jobs aren't sexy enough. It's that they're not plentiful enough. A young person looking for a job isn't looking just for a sexy job, they're looking for any job.

No, we didn't shoot... in the ones that I did there were hardly any sex... there were suggestions of sex scenes but we never actually shot a sex scene as such.

Sex is an aspect of human existence that has fallen prey in special measure to a very special form of theological science: the theological outgrowth or offshoot known as moral theology. Its biblical foundations are meager in the sense that nothing of the kind exists in the New Testament, so it has had to achieve its ambition largely by dint of its own efforts.

It is hard to swear when sex is not dirty and blasphemy does not exist.

Safety lies in catering to the in-group. We are not all brave. All I would ask of writers who find it hard to question the universal validity of their personal opinions and affiliations is that they consider this: Every group we belong to - by gender, sex, race, religion, age - is an in-group, surrounded by an immense out-group, living next door and all over the world, who will be alive as far into the future as humanity has a future. That out-group is called other people. It is for them that we write.

I believe all sin, love, glory are this: when you slide down the knotted sheets, escaping from Gestapo headquarters, and she hugs you, there, suspended, and she whispers that she's always dreamed of you. The rest is just sex, copulation, the perpetuation of the vile species.

I don't do group sex. I don't like being in a roomful of all my homeys giving high-fives and yelling, 'Switch!'