Best 146 quotes in «virginity quotes» category

Books that glorify virginity demean women with healthy sex drives who aren't married to Jesus.

By fetishizing youth and virginity, we're supporting a disturbing message: that really sexy women aren't women at all- they're girls.

Did you do it yet?" He was like a teen-age girl wondering about the virginity of her friend, the friend who has a look, a manner newly minted––different, separate, focused somehow. "Did you do it yet? Do you know something both exotic and ordinary that I have not felt? Do you now know what it's like to risk your one and only self? How did it feel? Were you afraid? Did it change you? And if I do it, will it change me too?

Do it, SENATOR! And it will be the end of your career! Everyone will love to know of a scandal involving a senator who loves abusing luxury prostitutes." ~Larsson

But Dracula, the book, the myth, goes beyond metaphor in its intuitive rendering of an oncoming century filled with sexual horror: the throat as a female genital; sex and death as synonyms; killing as a sex act; slow dying as sensuality; men watching the slow dying, and the watching is sexual; mutilation of the female body as male heroism and adventure; callous, ruthless, predatory lust as the one-note meaning of sexual desire; intercourse itself needing blood, someone's, somewhere, to count as a sex act in a world excited by sado-masochism, bored by the dull thud-thud of the literal fuck. The new virginity is emerging, a twentieth century nightmare: no matter how much we have fucked, now matter with how many, now matter with what intensity or obsession or commitment or conviction (believing that sex is freedom) or passion or promiscuous abandon, no matter how often or where or when or how, we are virgins, innocents, knowing nothing, untouched, unless blood has been spilled – ours: not the blood of the first time; the blood of every time; this elegant blood-letting of sex a so-called freedom exercised in alienation, cruelty, and despair. Trivial and decadent; proud; foolish; liars; we are free.

Consider another abstinence product: a gold rose pin handed out in schools or at Christian youth events. The pin is attached to a small card that reads, "You are like a beautiful rose. Each time you engage is pre-marital sex a previous petal is stripped away. Don't leave your future husband holding a bare stem. Abstain."Do we really want to teach our daughters that without their virginity they're nothing but a "bare stem"?

Doomed and knew it, accepted the doom without either seeking or fleeing it. Loved her brother despite him, loved not only him but loved in him that bitter prophet and inflexible corruptless judge of what he considered the family's honor and its doom, as he thought he loved but really hated in her what he considered the frail doomed vessel of its pride and the foul instrument of its disgrace, not only this, she loved him not only in spite of but because of the fact that he himself was incapable of love, accepting the fact that he must value above all not her but the virginity of which she was custodian and on which she placed no value whatever: the frail physical stricture which to her was no more than a hangnail would have been. Knew the brother loved death best of all and was not jealous, would (and perhaps in the calculation and deliberation of her marriage did) have handed him the hypothetical hemlock. Was two months pregnant with another man's child which regardless of what its sex would be she had already named Quentin after the brother whom they both (she and her brother) knew was already the same as dead...

Enthusiasm is the first step," she said. "Artfulness comes later." "I hope I didn't disappoint you." "I'm not displeased, Jovanno. Hells, having a lover that's new to the dance means you can train him properly. Give me a few nights and I'll have you whipped into proper form." "The Asino brothers ... they always, well, they always invited me to go with them when they went out. To buy it, you know." "There's no shame in doing that. And there's no shame in not having done it. But those two are hounds, Jovanno. Any woman could smell it a mile away. Sometimes a run with the hounds is just what you're in the mood for, but in the end they'll always roll around in muck and shit on your floor." "Oh, they've got an endearing side," said Jean. "It comes out once a month, when the first moon is full. They're like backwards werewolves.

First loves are nature’s way of providing an acceptable reason to lose your virginity.

He gave a wry smile. With all this vigilant vigils on virginity, you would think the country would have controlled its population by now.

For our own part, we learned a great deal about the techniques of love, and because we didn't know the words to denote what we saw, we had to make up our own. That was why we spoke of "yodeling in the canyon" and "tying the tube," of "groaning in the pit," "slipping the turtle's head," and "chewing the stinkweed." Years later, when we lost our own virginities, we resorted in our panic to pantomiming Lux's gyrations on the roof so long ago; and even now, if we were to be honest with ourselves, we would have to admit that it is always that pale wraith we make love to, always her feet snagged in the gutter, always her single blooming hand steadying itself against the chimney, no matter what our present lovers' feet and hands are doing.

For women especially, virginity has become the easy answer- the morality quick fix. You can be vapid, stupid, and unethical, but so long as you've never had sex, you're a "good" (i.e. "moral) girl and therefore worthy of praise.

Girls now lose their virginity long before they lose their innocence.

Guys who would make fun of girls for sexual inexperience are terrible people, and when girls do it to other girls it feels even shittier. Guys who shame girls who haven't had sex want them to feel like they aren't doing their job, which is to be sexually available and attractive to guys. (And never mind if they are gay, or just uninterested.) Girls who shame other girls for these reasons are helping those guys. They are saying this: You are not accomplished where it matters, and I am better than you. I have proven that men find me attractive, and that is what counts. These people, boys and girls and men and women alike, are all dickheads.

He had a hungry look in his eyes and it frightened her.

Here’s one secret no one will tell you about getting laid after a date. DON’T TALK. Most girls blame either their looks or excessive timidity for their virginity. This is only true to an extent. These girls are also horribly annoying.” —Aurelia Nichols & Jillie Bean, 101 Tips to Lose Your Virginity after 25

He that hangs himself is a virgin: virginity murders itself, and should be buried in highways, out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate offendress against nature. Virginity breeds mites, much like a cheese, consumes itself to the very paring, and so dies with feeding his own stomach. Besides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of self-love, which is the most inhibited sin in the canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but lose by’t! Out with’t! within the year it will make itself two, which is a goodly increase, and the principal itself not much the worse. Away with ’t!

He stops walking and grasps both of my hands to stop me. He narrows his eyes at me. "You’ve never been tickled? Ever?” His lips curl in a wickedly sexy smile. “You’re a tickle…virgin?” I nod and tilt my head down, looking demure. He makes it sound so erotic. I finally find my voice. “It wasn’t a virginity I ever focused on.

His anger was still there, and he used it to break into her. He liked the way her eyes widened in alarm, as if he was forcing a lock, as if he was breaking and entering. It was the first time he'd ever slept with a woman and it felt like burglary.

His secret, like those of nine of his fellow seniors, is safe with me. At Milton High, I’m my own statistic. People fail to see the great equalizer, the one thing the band geeks, the drama nerds, the jocks, and the preppies all have in common. Me-Mercedes Ayres. The girl who took their virginity.

Honesty. Sobriety. My virginity. No way to regain the first two, I almost gave away the last.

He runs his hands along her scabby back, and she does the same along his, and as they work together, clutching each other, some scars reopen. They are both bleeding now, both bride and bridegroom, in this unholy holy union.

I am certain you are not one of those dreary fellows one reads of who demands that their lady friends be in possession of a maidenhead. Mine was taken by a marrow two years ago.” “A marrow, Miss Pertwee? The vegetable that the Italians call il zucchine?” “The very same.A most particularly bold and impetuous hot-house marrow. It was quite the ravishment, I can assure you.” “I consider it no dishonor at all to be preceded by so noble a vegetable.

I am fit to capture a unicorn, and I should not be so questioned.

I CAME INTO THIS WORLD TO ROB YOUR HEART, IN THE SAME WAY AS YOU CAME INTO THIS WORLD TO ROB MY VIRGINITY." ~Emily

During those snowy New England winters, besides learning to rise at five to study calculus and trudge two miles through the drifts for breakfast down the road, he had suppressed some tremendous element in himself that took form in a prudish virginity. While his life was impeccable on the surface, he felt he was behind glass: moving through the world in a separate compartment, touching no one else.

How a man values a woman's virginity Is not exactly how the woman may see it //redefining honor

However, I have an enormous desire to change his way of life and try to re-educate him with the ingredient called ardent affection.~Emily

Idolizing virginity as a stand-in for women's morality means that nothing else matters- not what we accomplish, not what we think, not what we care about and work for. Just if/how/whom we have sex with. That's all.

I don't have any first times left... I hope that's OK.

I didn't want to drive him away, and I knew that most girls of my age weren't virgins. And even worse, physically, I wanted him too. I was curious to appease my own needs, and they were building by the day. My red light had already shifted to a yellow, but was I really ready for the green one? I was afraid that one day my body would overrule my doubts, and in the end, I would regret it. What was a girl to do?

I find it appalling that the Church claims Mary consented at the age of thirteen to become the mother of God.” “But she did,” James said. “There is ample evidence to show she consented.” “Isn’t that the classic defense of the pedophile?” Helena asked. “In Christ’s time and even today in some countries in the Middle East and India, child marriages are customary. But that doesn’t make it right. In Europe and the U.S. we prosecute adults for preying on children. God would be arrested for impregnating a girl below the age of consent.” “People didn’t live as long then,” James said. Helena would not back down. “But human biology hasn’t changed. My point is she was too young to consent. The brain of a young teenager isn’t fully developed.” “The mysteries of the faith require us to have faith.” “Don’t hide behind that nonsense. What kind of message is the Church sending to women? Only virgin children are pure? Experienced mothers are impure and unfit to raise Christ? It’s creepy and insulting when you think about it, but you would have me suspend rational judgment and just accept something I would tear your eyes out for thinking about my underage sister?

I, for example, recently finished writing an article about the latest wave of “home-grown” Islamic suicide-murderers. It was impossible not to notice one thing that their profiles and Web sites had in common. All of them complained about the impossibility of finding a woman, or sometimes a woman of sufficient piety. Meanwhile their public propaganda was hot with disgust and indignation at the phenomenon of female inchastity. The connection between repression and orgasmically violent action appeared woefully evident.

I have an unforgettable destiny for this girl's virginity." ~Larsson TIGER

I lost my virginity when I was fifteen, although lost is a funny word for it. I didn’t misplace it like a homework assignment or a cell phone. It wasn’t like I could find it again and tuck it back in there.

I’m a virgin Mr Cohen,” Carrie said, “I’ve never been with a man before.

I’m a virgin, okay?” There was a moment of silence while I assume he was struggling to understand the connection. Then he spoke. “I’m not prejudiced against anyone.

I'm saying you should be careful. As careful as life and death, because that's what it is." She gives me a meaningful look. "And never trust the boy to bring the condom. A lady always brings her own." I cough. "Your body is yours to protect and enjoy." She raises both eyebrows at me meaningfully. "Whoever you should choose to partake in that enjoyment, that is your choice, and choose wisely. Every man that ever got to touch me was afforded an honor. A privilege." Stormy waves her hand over me. "All this? It's a privilege to worship at this temple, do you understand my meaning? Not just any young fool can approach the throne. Remember my words, Lara Jean. You decide who, how far, and how often, if ever.

I’m twenty-four, a first grade teacher, have a Yorkie named Pedro, a goldfish named Fish, have never had sex, or a serious boyfriend, and I’m the town lesbian who pukes when she sees a pussy. Nothing really to be jealous of at all.

I'd had kisses. Rushed, wet, tasting of beer, right out in the open. I'd messed around with a funny sophomore in my anthropology seminar and a shy journalism grad student, and while these nights were satisfying in their way, the pleasure didn't last past 2:00 am. I missed patience, the sweet, smoky taste of scotch. And the gut thrum of the forbidden. Instead of obscuring my memory of him, the hours I spent with boys at school slid to the edges and collected around it, like a frame.

If you’d given yourself to someone else, you wouldn’t be mine. And that would seriously piss me off.

I have a rule." "Elaborate." The statue is still warm from the previous visitors. "I ask myself, if the worst happened—if I did get knocked up-would I be embarrassed to tell my child who his father was? If the answer is anywhere even remotely close to yes, then there's no way." He nods slowly. "That's a good rule.

I have nothing to give anyone, really. It’s the one gift I can give that has any kind of value. It makes me feel worthy.

I'm not an advocate of promiscuity; but then I'm also not an advocate of being virginal. It's not like I put virginity or celibacy on a pedestal, and as long as I don't get your promiscuity rubbed into my face— I don't care about it! What I do care about is the ability to recognize the sanctity of a union of two souls— you just can't say your soul isn't being united with others' when you have sex with them. So I think you'd better own up to what you're doing— no matter how frequently or infrequently or with how many different people you do it. I mean, make good choices! You are, after all, entwining your soul with another's.

I'm not saying I'm not bad. I'm not saying I'm special. But I'm not like the Allport Street girls, who stand in doorways and go with men into alleys. All I know is I didn't want it like that. Not against the bricks or hunkering in somebody's car. I wanted it come undone like gold thread, like a tent full of birds.

In days long past, Jarod said he’d write a sentence about my love, translated in Russian, and that sentence, like my love, is clearly not for sale, unlike his virginity, or this book, which I’m both offering at ten times the market value, so hurry up and buy now, before it goes down.

In this convoluted world where sex has become a party favor rather than a solemn, beautiful part of love between two people, I think virginity is sexy. I don't like promiscuity. Oddly, at the turn of the 20th century, even men were expected to wait until marriage to indulge. I think that's sexy, too. Okay, I'm a dinosaur, I admit it. I don't belong in the modern world.

I think he seriously believes that deflowering an angel could mean an eternity in fiery hell.

It’s a pity that virgins can’t be issued with some kind of barcode. Think of the problems that would have saved you.

IT'S AN EXTRAORDINARY FEELING WHEN PART OF YOUR BODY ARE TOUCHED FOR THE FIRST TIME. I'M THINKING OF THE SENSATIONS FROM SEX AND SURGERY.