"passionate-love"タグの名言

If I am to be fallen into love, I will. And if as a result I will appear to be stupid, disillusioned, and of poor judgment, I will. And I would be damned if I cared what other people think. For I would rather be thought of as all of these things, than not love. If in loving, I become the naked woman on the horse, I will ride that horse with my head held high. This is my spirit. I am unbreakable.

Not all Women love deeply and passionately. Take utmost care of those who love you. And keep them happy!

I live for sex. I celebrate it, and relish the electricity of it, with every fibre of my being. I can see no better reason for being alive.

It was the wildness of it that got me going: the primal lust, the sheer needs of two people in heat, quickly finding ways to express their sacred hunger to each other in animal passion.

To feel aroused is to feel alive. Having great sex is like taking in huge lungfuls of fresh air, essential to your body, essential to your health, and essential to your life.

I love being aroused. I relish that delicious feeling of freedom, the delirium of being naked, and my flesh being born again. It’s like I’m being made new.

It was the impatience of the way he tore my panties from my body, that really turned me on: I was all he could think of, as his lust got the better of him. I glanced back, and saw the underwear torn and discarded, a little strip of thin black material on the floor, and thought, Yes, this is the kind of impatient sex I’m looking for. The way they looked so small, and cruelly forgotten, was a beautiful symbol of how much we both needed to satisfy our lusts.

A sensual lifestyle makes most sense for my daily happiness.

I felt his pain as my own and I wanted to touch him, feel him, reach inside his fractured heart and pull out all of the love he buried inside. I wanted to kiss every inch of his skin. I wanted to feel his brokenness against mine, like if we held each other hard enough something within each of us would finally heal.

All I wanted was to merge with the same person who had broken me, thinking that he was the only one who could fill in all the little crevices making me feel whole again.

Love is a fire without flames Souls burned no prints, no ashes remains For which is more hurtful losing your love Or courage to love again Therefore I fear love I fear it again

Yes, You are my hamartia And my muse I don’t have any ex; I am a lover of one The tragic picture of our youth

Claim me, and your every movement, every breath, every word will be written upon my heart, for eternity. You will be immortal yet.

I so want to kiss you, Phoenix, but I won’t. I won’t kiss you until you want me to and not one second before that.

I sought you in my dreams like a river seeking the ocean as I navigated the treacherous lands I longed to be yours

Hold me as if I were the most fragile object that a touch of a feather could break. Dance with me with the same animal craving, with the same desire you would make love to me.

You deserve a love that is pure and passionate! Do not settle for anything less that!

Don't look into my eyes for more than a second; And then blame me for making you fall.

Kiss me hard, let your wetness linger along my lips. I want to drown against you, our bodies woven together and raging in ecstatic synchrony. I don’t want to lie in an easy, hollow embrace. I want to feel the hunger emanating from you. I want the desire to swallow me. I want it to hurt. I want you to show me that this matters. That we matter. That you would risk it all for me. Love me with everything you have or don’t love me at all.

She tastes like chocolate. She tastes like an apple from that garden. She tastes like cocaine; like pure pleasure. She tastes like gold; like a piece of bread in the time of famine; like one last smoke. She tastes like hope; like dreams become reality; like reality becomes a fairy tale; like a fairy tale becomes the main purpose of life. She tastes like fears that become achievements; like dangers that make life more exciting. She tastes like love. She tastes like hate. She tastes like madness.