Best 362 quotes in «erotic quotes» category

You don't get to say goodbye. Not now, maybe not ever. That's the beauty of this arrangement. I make all the decisions and you're left to wander around in the dark, waiting, anticipating and fearing my next move. Only when I'm done using you and I’ve gotten what I need will I let you go.

You found it,” she announced. I smiled, knowing what she meant. She and I’d had conversations since I was a small child about finding true love. She’d fallen deep with my grampa, who I hadn’t met, he’d died before I was born in a work accident, but she’d never sought out anyone else. She couldn’t imagine her life without him. She’d told me that some people could find love over and over but others found it once and it was so perfect, so ‘it’ that they’d never look elsewhere, even if they lost it. They’d had such good from it that they were topped up for life.

You know, there’s no pleasure like the joy of being a sexual woman. You can take your careers, your money, your houses and possessions, and you go and throw them in a lake. Because life is really all about sex. That’s what I keep learning, again and again. It’s the most important thing, woven into the very centre of life. And I just know I was put on this earth to be a sexual woman, and to explore as much about sex as I can.

You know, when I see a good-looking man, the first thing I think about is sex. I want to see him naked, and I imagine running my hands impatiently over his hot body. I can’t help it: it’s just how I am.

You need to understand something, Krissy,” he began, taking careful steps towards me. “Whenever I drop the words ‘gonna shower’, it means, we’re gonna shower. I expect to see you sliding the doors open and stepping in under that shower with me, no more than a minute later. Aroused, eager, and impatient to be fucked under the spraying shower and against the tiles.” When he reached me, he took the cup of coffee still suspended mid-air from my hand and set it down on the table. Then he bent and slid one arm beneath my thighs, the other around my waist, and lifted my inert body up off the chair. “If I don’t want you to join me, I won’t tell you I’m gonna shower. ’Cause, then, what would be the fucking point?

You're only as old as your boy toy...

You turn the lights on and off here and if you can’t sleep and want something to read there are books in the living room…” her voice broke off. “Wait. Can you read?” His chin took a slight tilt upward. “Aye,” Faolán replied, his voice cool, “in English, Gaelic, Latin, or French. My Welsh is a bit rusty, and I doona remember any of the Greek I was taught except for words not fit for a lady’s ears. I can also count all the way up to…” He looked down and wiggled his large bare toes, “…twenty.” – Faolán MacIntyre

Your hatred is my foreplay.” - Julian King

You've invaded my erotic dojo. For this your assholes will adorn my thunderous cock like jewelry!

All art is erotic. The first ornament to have been invented, the cross, was of erotic origin. It was the first work of art. A horizontal stroke: the woman lying down. A vertical stroke: the male who penetrates her.

After I tasted success with erotic thrillers, a time came when I was being offered only films belonging to that genre. The industry loves repeating a success formula, and the audience had formed a certain image of mine in their minds.

A good nude photograph can be erotic, but certainly not sentimental or pornographic.

A healthy man is content with a woman. An erotic man is content with a stocking to get to a woman. A sick man is content with thestocking.

A freak is basically anyone who needs fantasy, degradation, or punishment in order to achieve his interpretation of erotic gratification.

All art is probably erotic in its ultimate character, but painting more than anything else is a purely nervous erotic activity.

A red rose peeping through a white? Or else a cherry (double graced) Within a lily? Centre placed? Or ever marked the pretty beam, A strawberry shows, half drowned in cream? Or seen rich rubies blushing through A pure smooth pearl, and orient too? So like to this, nay all the rest, Is each neat niplet of her breast.

An anagram of Axl Rose is oral sex. Why do I know? Because when I'm not playing music I love solving erotic jumbles.

A meal can be an erotic experience in itself.

An enormous amount of art and literature is erotic in the sense that it stimulates vague sexual emotions, but it has no pornographic intention or effect because "it leaves everything to the imagination." The consumer has to invent his own images, and it is felt, I do not know with what justification, that there is no harm in this.

At my back I hear the word-"homosexual"-and it seems to split my world in two.... It is ignorance, our ignorance of one another, that creates this terrifying erotic chaos. Information, a crumb of information, seems to light the world.

As you get older, you recognize the erotic nature of the vampire and the idea of the undead.

At the moment my art is situated between the pornographic tendency to reveal everything and the erotic inclination to hide what it's all about.

A very common symptom in maniacal conditions is erotic excitement. This varies from mere coquetry, a somewhat extended application of the command "love one another", an undue attention to the opposite sex, and so forth, up to the extreme of salacity, when the mind is wholly occupied by the urgent sexual appetite, and all restraint is abandoned.

A TV evening with the right person can be more erotic than sex with the wrong one.

Behind every erotic condemnation there's a burning hypocrite.

Beauty compelled admiration and erotic yearning; such was its organic function. But never by itself could it command love.

But maybe boredom is erotic, when women do it, for men.

Betrayal lived in a separate realm than sex, a realm that was far more innocent, and far more erotic.

Certainly Dracula did bring a hell of a lot of joy to a hell of a lot of women. And if this erotic quality hadn't come out we'd have been very disappointed.

By the mid 1920s the typical American town was in full sexual bloom. The change came with erotic fashions, literature and movies, and an unsuspected sexual aid, the automobile.

Chad Michael Ward is a master of the storytelling craft. His imagery, both still and moving, reaches deep into the darkest corners of the mind, combining the macabre and the sensuous Revealing humanity's secret daydream atrocities. CMW taps into our most excitable of emotions with a blend of fear and human sexuality. Like an erotic car accident we can not look away from.

Christianity has enriched the erotic meal with the appetizer of curiosity and spoiled it with the dessert of remorse.

Children would only get in the way of our erotic lifestyle!

Complete nudity in itself is not erotic. It becomes so only when preceeded by or contrasted to a state of dress. In this limited context then, all clothes become somewhat immoral, if we define immorality as inciting sexual interest. Habitual nakedness may indeed be capable of elevating man to a higher mental plane

Cinema, heir of alchemy, last of an erotic science.

Cinema returns us to anima, religion of matter, which gives each thing its special divinity and sees gods in all things and beings. Cinema, heir of alchemy, last of an erotic science.

Erotic acts are instinctive; they fulfill a role in nature. The idea is familiar, but it is one that contains a paradox: there is nothing more natural than sexual desire; there is nothing less natural than the forms in which it is made manifest and satisfied.

David Bergen is a master of taut, spare prose that's both erotic and hypnotic. . . .

Erotic love is one of the highest forms of contemplation.

Erotic names, robes, insignia of office, titles- the trappings of religion- confuse as much as they help.

Dating is a social brain teaser, as it requires constantly changing ratios of intimacy and distance, an erotic mental cha-cha choreographed by chemistry, insight, and fear.

Erotic or sexual love can truly be love if it is not selfishly sexual or lustful.

Erotic intelligence stretches far beyond a repertoire of sexual techniques. It is an intelligence that celebrates curiosity and play, the power of the imagination, and our infinite fascination with what is hidden and mysterious.

Erotic love begins with separateness, and ends in oneness. Motherly love begins with oneness, and leads to separateness.

Erotic movies - they don't even make it anymore. Even the erotic magazines don't really look like the ones you could find in the '70s. You have much more extreme iconography of what is sexy. It's very cold. There's nothing that links to real life.

Her lips on his could tell him better than all her stumbling words.

Even with the sacred printing press, we got erotic novels 150 years before we got scientific journals.

For a woman there is nothing more erotic than being understood.

Gossip, even when it avoids the sexual, bears around it a faint flavor of the erotic.

Herschel Grynszpan's life was enigmatic, elusive and tragic. The traces he left on the historical record are just sufficient to tantalize and baffle historians. Harlan Greene has woven from these threads a riveting novel, erotic, haunting, and profoundly moving.