Attack and defense, invasion and repulsion...it was as if breasts were little pieces of property that had been unlawfully annexed by the opposite sex -- they were rightfully ours and we wanted them back.

"So, what are you taking ( Read more... )

Romeo
If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this,
My lips two blushing pilgrims read stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss

JulietGood pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much ( Read more... )

'But I'll give ou a compliment,' he offers. 'I hope you'll like this. Because what I want to tell you is that the fact that you're pretty is your least good quality.'

And then there are my friends and they have their own lives. While they like to talk everything through, to analyze and hypothesize, what I really need, what I'm really looking for, is not something I can articulate. It's nonverbal: I need love. I need the thing that happens when your brain shuts off and your heart turns on. And I know it's around ( Read more... )

The woman smiled at his astonishment, a very friendly smile, and slowly he, too, began to smile. Her mouth came down on his smiling lips; they greeted each other with a gentle kiss, and Goldmund remembered the evening in the village and the little girl with the braids. But the kiss was not over yet. The woman's mouth lingered, began to play, teased ( Read more... )

Back in the late 1970s, when I was fifteen years old, I spent every penny I then had in the bank to fly across the continent in a 747 jet to Brandon, Manitoba, deep in the Canadian prairies, to witness a total eclipse of the sun. I must have made a strange sight at my young age, being pencil thin and practically albino, quietly checking into a ( Read more... )

Boys and girls in America have such a sad time together; sophistication demands that they submit to sex immediately without proper preliminary talk. Not courting talk--real straight talk about souls, for life is holy and every moment is precious.

I woke up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn't know who I was--I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I'd never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all ( Read more... )

Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter--tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther...And one fine morning--

So we beat on, boats agains the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.