Best 312 quotes in «men and women quotes» category

I have to say, her blonde bob was amazing. The delicate way it hugged her face and neck. The softness of it...

I have watched him as only a woman can watch a man upon whom her fate depends, but it has always been in vain.

I heard him sweeping with the broom, and then he suddenly stopped. I had obviously got his attention, and he was looking. Take a good look, honey, I thought. Take a good look at what I’m offering. I liked the sound of that silence. Do you know what I mean? Have you heard that silence yourself? I love that silence you get, when a man who you fancy notices your body. In a weird way, it’s so loud, it’s deafening. It could be because of the way you sway your hips, your legs, or thrust your breasts. And you just know his erection is talking to him, about what he’d like to do to your body. How he’d like to have his delightfully wicked way with you, undress you, smother your naked skin with hungry urgent kisses, and thrust his hard and moist cock deep inside the pouting red lips of your mouth… I think you get my drift. There’s a lovely tension in that moment; I call it the lust moment. When a sexy man sees what you’ve deliberately put out on offer, and he stops in his steps as his lust lights up his mind, and puts him on a new track.

I like the sounds of words. Words are very enjoyable. I like words because they are... seductive. And I like words because they can contain... fantasies.

I love being aroused. I love how that feeling overcomes me, as I look at a man’s erect cock, as I feel his hands ripping my clothes from my body, as the air caresses my naked skin, and how I feel like I’m blossoming like a flower.

He drank some more wine, feeling he was about to commit a forbidden act. A transgression. For a man should never go through a woman's handbag. . .

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.

In my errant life I roamed To learn the secrets of women and men, Of gods and dreams. I've known all the countries of our world, I've lived a thousand lives: Many lives I lived in love, Other lives I squandered. For in my life I never traveled, All I did was wander.

I'm the one who should apologize,' he said. 'I want to help, but I know I won't be able to. I haven't go the answers to anything.' 'That's what men think, isn't it?' 'What?' 'That unless you've got some answer, unless you can say, "Oh, I know this bloke in Essex Road who can fix that for you", then it's not worth bothering.' Will shifted in his seat and didn't say anything. That was precisely what he thought; in fact, he had spent half the evening trying to think of the name of the bloke in Essex Road, metaphorically speaking.

I'm fine," Kate said. "In fact, since my last two dates were so awful, things can only get better." "Bad deduction," Jessie said. "If that were true, I'd be dating Harrison Ford by now.

I'm sorry on behalf of my species.

I stood in front of him, frustratedly imagining his naked muscular chest, and wanting his hot cock to spear me. My nipples were aroused, feeling as hard and long as coat hooks. They prodded fiercely through the thin blue material at him, like little calling signs of how horny and ready for sex I was. The best advertisement of all: erect nipples!

I read things that male relationship experts write about women and I read things that female relationship experts write about men, then I feel a true sadness in my heart. Why can’t there be a simple, pure, direct openness? Why can’t there be a simple, real, open trust? The truth is that male or female, gay or straight— we are all people— we have all been broken and put back together in so many different ways... it’s really just about learning how to recognize the sound of the other one's cracks. And that’s what it’s really about, just that.

I smile at you, hinting at the pleasures ahead, and silently point to the zip at the back of my dress…

It appears that ordinary men take wives because possession is not possible without marriage, and that ordinary women accept husbands because marriage is not possible without possession; with totally differing aims the method is the same on both sides. But the understood incentive on the woman's part was wanting here. Besides, Bathsheba's position as absolute mistress of a farm and house was a novel one, and the novelty had not yet begun to wear off.

Intuition is the lifeblood of a woman and the essential character of a man."-Serena Jade

I suppose I do have a suitor, but I'm not really used to him yet. He's terribly charming and he plies me with delicious meals, but I sometimes think I prefer suitors in books rather than right in front of me.

I talk for a living, but it’s still hard to talk about love, especially when it’s officially mandated by the calendar. (Men, of course, think Valentine’s Day is a woman-dated occasion.)

I tell yeh, Bright-eyes. Men and women? A bloody mess. Every time.

I think, yes, a man and a woman can be good friends, but it isn't easy for them being as no one else will suppose that that is what they are. And then there's the problem of being different sexes. I think if they are good friends, then whatever else they are - or are not - is better.

I think as a society we forget that men also have daddy issues, they've also had bad childhoods, they're vulnerable beings.. They also need love. We are made to think men don't have a hard time, and that's mainly because we've trained them not to show emotion, not to shed a tear.. but I can assure you, we men break down just like every other being. We get depressed. We get heartbroken, we get scared, lonely, butterflies.. We feel every emotion just as women do.

I thought to myself how we were so wrapped up in this animal act, that he couldn’t care less about his tea shop business, and I couldn’t care less about my job. That’s real sex that is, real passion: where you abandon all your boringly sensible thoughts, and all that tediously responsible side of yourself, as you give yourself to what you know really matters more, deep in the core of you: frantic sex.

I think there's something to the old saying that women use sex to get love, and men use love to get sex. And love is really just a word we use to describe a close bond, or relationship, between two people. Men have been programmed to want sex, so they do whatever is necessary to be in a relationship with a woman. And a woman is programmed to want the stability and (financial) security of a relationship, so she offers the man what he wants: sex.

It is amazing what a woman can do if only she ignores what men tell her she can't.

It is a naive sort of feminism that insists that women prove their ability to do all the things that men do. This is a distortion and a travesty. Men have never sought to prove that they can do all the things women do. Why subject women to purely masculine criteria? Women can and ought to be judged by the criteria of femininity, for it is in their femininity that they participate in the human race. And femininity has its limitations. So has masculinity. That is what we’ve been talking about. To do this is not to do that. To be this is not to be that. To be a woman is not to be a man. To be married is not to be single - which may mean not to have a career. To marry this man is not to marry all the others. A choice is a limitation.

It is assured that men of all ages imagine a woman naked when they first meet.

Ivanov: A naive man is a fool. But you women are clever enough to be naive so that it comes out in you as engaging and healthy and warm, and not so silly as it might seem. Only why do you all behave like this? While a man is healthy and strong and in good spirits, you pay him no attention, but as soon as he rolls down the slippery slope and starts complaining about his woes, you hang on his neck.

It's a shame for a woman's history to be all about men-first boys, then other boys, then men, men, men. It reminds me of the way our school history textbooks were all about wars and elections, one war after another, with the dull periods of peace skimmed over when they happened.

It's not you, it's me.' 'Oh God. That's exactly what my last three boyfriends said when they dumped me. Is it in the Y-Chromosome User's Manual or something?' He grinned. 'On page five. But, you know, don't tell anyone I told you.

It was my grandmother who first told me that a woman marries a man in the belief that he'll change but he doesn't -- and a man marries a woman in the belief that she won't change but she does.

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.

I traced a finger along my bottom lip as I wondered what his erection would look like, and how I should seduce him. I thought what kind of approach would work best: whether to go in slow and seductively, or whether I should make him notice me in some hard and fast way.

I want to glide in a world of beauty,’ I said. ‘To be carried away into a world of luxurious things.

I want you to fuck me, Chris,’ I said, lustfully whispering the words into his ear as he planted kisses on my neck. His lips were wild and yearning, eagerly devouring me.

Just married! A bright past is ahead of them!

I would think it odd, he said, that he had never married. I did not, in fact, think it at all odd--the statistical chances against any woman being prepared to endure both the hairiness of his legs and the tedium of his conversation seemed to be negligible. I did not express this view, but said sympathetically that the military life must be difficult to combine with the domestic.

Jake ignored him and went on. “If I ever do hook up with anybody again - and I sincerely doubt that I will, so wipe that hopeful look off your face - it will be with someone who thinks that being with somebody who mows lawns is her idea of heaven on earth and who will do exactly what I tell her to do and love it." "I think Donna Reed is dead," Will said.

Ladies, let me give you some advice. You can throw all your stupid fucking chick-lit, self-help, why-doesn't-he-love-me books out, because this is all you need to know: Men will treat you the way you let them. There is no such thing as "deserving" respect; you get what you demand from people.. if you demand respect, he will either respect you or he won't associate with you. It really is that simple.

I was interested when Mr. Morton talked in this manner, giving his thoughts on the way of the world. I knew that most men of his generation fumed at what they considered lack of propriety and dangerous freedom of modern young women, but Mr. Morton was above all a fair and just man, without prejudices. I had once overheard him saying to Colonel Rodsley, 'Certainly I agree with you that women are not the equals of men, Colonel. But neither are men the equals of women. They are quite simply different creatures, thank God, and not to be compared. But that one should be subordinate to the other in the eyes of the law is an injustice I hope to see rectified before I die.

Ladies, I have bad news for you. Men are pigs. No really. I know you think you know what I'm talking about but you don't know the half of it. You have no idea how depraved we men really are. I'm about to tell you the truth about men. The whole truth. Not that sanitized holier-than-thou shit they feed you in all those other relationship books. I'm gonna take you into the abyss that is the male mind. It's a dark and scary place. You're not gonna like it. It's dirty in there. Icky. Don't touch anything. Bring hand sanitizer.

Love the women in your life. Let them bloom!

Love is inconvenient. Love is untidy. Love is relentless, ruthless and rapacious. Done well, it’s hilarious, playful and redemptive.

Mating has been programmed into our DNA. And that programming always influences our interaction with the opposite sex, whether we like to admit it or not.

Lust, pure gorgeous lust: the sacred energy that elevates us, and makes us feel so special.

Maybe you’re smiling as I stumble to put my feelings into words. But I’m trying to do her justice, you know?

Maybe this was a male-female translation problem. I read an article once that said that when women have a conversation, they're communicating on five levels. They follow the conversation that they're actually having, the conversation that is specifically being avoided, the tone being applied to the overt conversation, the buried conversation that is being covered only in subtext, and finally the other person's body language. That is, on many levels, astounding to me. I mean, that's like having a freaking superpower. When I, and most other people with a Y chromosome, have a conversation, we're having a conversation. Singular. We're paying attention to what is being said, considering that, and replying to it. All these other conversations that have apparently been going on for the last several thousand years? I didn't even know that they ~existed~ until I read that stupid article, and I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one.

Men, being accustomed to act on reflection themselves, are a great deal too apt to believe that women act on reflection, too. Women do nothing of the sort. They act on impulse; and, in nine cases out of ten, they are heartily sorry for it afterward.

Men are a compilation of every experience and relationship they have ever lived through. Some experiences have bettered your man while others have battered him. The man standing before you is the result of a lifetime of surviving.

Men and women may speak the same language, but we interpret words differently.

Men can go to hell! I’ll meet them there.