Best 244 quotes in «touch quotes» category

I wonder if she feels from me the thing I feel about her when I touch her. Not in sex, which he understood now was a different thing from everything else. I just mean when I touch her skin before we sleep and I understand all the things beneath it. Animals can't have that. They can't build their loved ones that way and feel right through their skin. That's never worn off, whatever else. He looked a where she slept. I can't imagine living without that.

Losing someone doesn’t scare me. Death doesn’t scare me. What scares me is the inability to no longer feel the touch of the one you love.

Love is when you start denying all the definitions it was given before and you start finding your own. It is when the other person craves to see your bare soul more than your bare skin. It is something that happens between souls, where the touch of their fingers on your skin lits fire to your soul and destroys you in the most beautiful way possible and makes you end up craving to be destroyed even more.

Marketing is so powerful that it can make even an extremely untalented musician a one-hundred-hits wonder.

Marry me, Rachel.' 'Not yet.' 'Tomorrow, Rachel. Marry me.' 'Maybe tomorrow.' 'There is no common blood between us. Say it,' pleads Zachariah. 'There is no common blood between us,' murmurs Rachel. 'I am not your brother.' 'I know.' He traces her face with his swollen fingers, across the brow bones and down the zygomatics, and along the jaw from earlobe to chin, sweeping away the brine as he goes. 'I am your Wolff,' he says. 'And I am your Wolff,' she replies. Let the day begin.

may my touch always...be tender as i would stroke mother's cheeks when she cried.

Lying half-asleep in his embrace, I looked up and saw on his face the same expression I saw on countless lonely faces every day. It was the homesick look of the children who were lost in the chaos of warfare, witnessing death and disaster, longing for a meaningful touch.

Never touch your idols: the gilding will stick to your fingers." (Il ne faut pas toucher aux idoles: la dorure en reste aux mains.)

Love came to me as the touching waves, kissing my feet but never to stay, I wondered it's existence until I got absorbed into it.

Most people give up finding their soul mate, and settle down to just having a flesh mate.

Most people shake your hand but only a few touch your heart.

Music is the fastest motivator in the world.

My fingers draw up her back and tangle into her hair. “They’ll never separate us.” “Never,” she repeats. Our lips crush together, our bodies pressed tight. An inferno of lips and hands and movements that continues to grow in heat. The blanket falls away as Rachel slides her legs so that she straddles me. On the verge of burning up completely, I groan and cling to her small frame. Her hands drift under my shirt, leaving a singeing trail. We’ve become a wildfire. Almost unstoppable. I kiss her neck and the beautiful sounds escaping her mouth encourage me further. My hands skim under her shirt, up her back, linger for seconds near her bra, and I gently nip her ear when I feel lace. Images pour into my mind of what she’d look like with her shirt off, then her jeans. My fist traps strands of her hair. “I want you, Rachel.” And because I do, I kiss her fully on the mouth—nothing left to the imagination. Every fantasy becomes a reality with that one embrace.

My love for you attains immortality whenever it is touched by the thought of death

My mind is being consumed by you. My body is longing for you. Just one touch or a kiss, And I shall be satiated for a thousand years.

My soul has always been here, waiting silently for that fleeting touch, knowing home resides within our timeless desire...

No matter what happens in the outside world, as long as you have faith in yourself, no darkness can touch you!

No one can touch us. We are unbelievable.

Nessuno ha detto nulla sul toccare, no?». Anche lei sapeva giocare sporco. «A un certo punto, dovrò toccare», mormorò lui. «E baciare. E accarezzare. E leccare

Not fair,” I muttered. “Your sword was bigger than mine.” “My sword is bigger than everyone’s.” I lobbed my controller at his head, but of course he ducked and made me miss. Damn it. “Perv.” “Oh, come on,” he laughed. “You walked right into that one, Duffy.” I scowled at him for a moment, but I could feel the aggravation slipping away. Finally, I just shook my head… and smiled. “Okay, you’re right. I did leave that one wide open. But you know, boys that talk big never are.” Wesley frowned. “We both know that isn’t true. I’ve proved it to you plenty of times.” He smirked, then leaned against me, letting his lips brush against my ear. “But I can prove it again if you want me to… and you know you want me to.” “I… I don’t think that’s necessary,” I managed. His lips were moving down my neck, sending an electric current up my spine. “Oh,” he growled playfully. “I do.” I laughed as he shoved me to the floor, one of his hands perfectly catching the space above my left hip where I was most ticklish. He’d discovered that spot a couple of weeks ago, and I was furious with myself for letting him use it against me. Now he could make me squirm and laugh uncontrollably whenever he wanted, and I could tell that he totally got off on it. Jerk. His fingers probed the sensitive spot over my hip as his mouth moved from my collarbone to my ear. I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe. Not fair. So not fair. I made a halfhearted attempt to kick him away, but he trapped my leg between his and proceeded to tickle me harder.

No tricks, no tools, but talent makes a task truly top class.

our feet are grape-squashed in memories our skins are still flushed from the touch of summer’s lips.

Our talents are living things, we give birth to them, nourish them till they grow and become immortal.

[Patricia Highsmith] was overwhelmed by sensory stimulation - there were too many people and too much noise and she just could not handle the supermarket. She continually jumped, afraid that someone might recognise or touch her. She could not make the simplest of decisions - which type of bread did she want, or what kind of salami? I tried to do the shopping as quickly as possible, but at the check-out she started to panic. She took out her wallet, knocked off her glasses, dropped the money on the floor, stuff was going all over the place.

No dirt can touch me, like an ocean, everything that comes to me becomes clean.

O for a life of Sensations rather than of Thoughts. -John Keats

One of the most beautiful words is touch; it exquisitely represents our need to prove ourselves that we are not in a dream!

One touch from you...,” water coated his lips, gathered in thick drops on his dark lashes, “makes me feel more than a whole goddamned orgy.

Perhaps it was the way he'd look at me and smile, Perhaps it was the sound of his voice after being utterly defeated, Perhaps it was the warmth of his touch, Perhaps I've always been in love with you

She'll be fine," Alex says dismissively, as though I shouldn't worry about it—as though it's none of my concern. I have the sudden urge to kick him in the back of his head. He is kneeling in front of Lena, dabbing antibacterial cream on her leg. I'm mesmerized by the way his fingers move confidently along her skin, as though her body is his to treat and touch and tend to. She was mine before she was yours: The words are there, unexpectedly, surging from my throat to my tongue. I swallow them back.

Plains watch the mountains and mountains watch the plains. Through looks, everything touches everything, even though they have many kilometers or even light years between them!

She'd had little patience with darkness, and her heart held only a measure of shadow. I touched the warm dust of those colors, her tools, and left there with light on the tips of my fingers.

She liked his unique smell, and it turned on all five of her senses, wanting to see him naked, touch him while naked, hear him as he moaned while he made love, taste his skin, and feel his naked body as she seduced him with the trailing of hungry fingers.

She watches him for hours. She wants to be the sheets that cover his toes. She wants to be the ceiling separating him from the sky: above him, the first thing he sees before and after dreams. She wants to be the open window letting in the light for him.

Simple and plain things can touch your heart very easily! If you can be simple and plain, you can touch every heart!

She reminded me of the sea; the way she came dancing towards you, wild and beautiful, and just when she was almost close enough to touch she'd rush away again.

Rain touching our hand becomes a little bit salty! Man touching wisdom becomes a little bit wiser! More touches take more from the touched!

Some days are better than others. The same can be said about people.

Some people arrive only when we reach a crossroads within ourselves, when decisions have to be made, when change is inevitable, but we lack the courage to embrace it. They touch a part of us so deeply that it changes the entire direction of our life, and that exhilarating feeling of love we feel with them, is enough to guide us and give us the strength to take the right road, even if it’s on our own.

Sometimes it's hard to look at a flower, when your dying inside.

Soil is earth’s barefoot and when we walk barefoot, two barefoot touches each other with love!

Similar souls wander in the similar places! They may not know each other, but often they touch the same winds, they step on the same leaves, their looks are lost in the same horizons!

Sometimes, when he was not near me, I thought, I will never let him 'Touch' me again. Then, when he 'Touched' me, I thought, it doesn't matter, it is only the body, it will soon be over. When it was over, I lay in the dark and listened to his breathing and dreamed of the 'Touch' of hands, of Giovanni's hands, or anybody's hands, hands which would have the power to crush me and make me whole again.

So you take physical affection when you can get it, almost feeling guilty when you do. You might sleep with someone just to get to the cuddling part, knowing full well that if cuddling had been on the table, you might not have even slept with them to begin with. You might get super happy when your yoga teachers do adjustments because having someone touch you in a safe, gentle way⁠—even for two seconds⁠—feels like it changes your whole world. I know I do. Partly because human beings are designed to be physically comforted by one another.

Success is not money, cars, fame or material possessions but the lives you touched positively.

That’s the way Chris lives, warning everyone who gets close of the lightning that may strike. Never touch anything, never make a mark. But Anatole can’t live that way. The world’s too lonely a place: he has to touch things, he has to put his arms around them.

The comb tugged a little too hard, and Win murmured an apology and rubbed the smarting spot with her fingertips. So gently. It made his throat tight and his eyes sting. Deeply disquieted, and bewildered, Kev swallowed back the feeling. He stayed tense but passive beneath her touch. He could hardly breathe for the pleasure she gave him.

Tease her with your touch or she’ll tase you with her absence.

The integrity of my body is undermined in pregnancy not only by this externality of the inside, but also by the fact that the boundaries of my body are themselves in flux. In pregnancy I literally do not have a firm sense of where my body ends and the world begins. My automatic body habits become dislodged; the continuity between my customary body and my body at this moment is broken. In pregnancy, my prepregnant body image does not entirely leave my movements and expectations, yet it is with the pregnant body that I must move. This is another instance of the doubling of the pregnant subject. I move as if I could squeeze around chairs and through crowds as I could seven months before, only to find my way blocked by my own body sticking out in front of me - but yet not me, since I did not expect it to block my passage. As I lean over in my chair to tie my shore, I am surprised by the graze of this hard belly on my thigh. I do not anticipate my body touching itself, for my habits retain the old sense of my boundaries. In the ambiguity of bodily touch, I feel myself being touched and touching simultaneously, both on my knee and my belly. The belly is other, since I did not expect it there, but since I feel the touch upon it, it is me.

Their hands touched for an instant, but neither spoke. Silences were becoming more frequent and more delicious.