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"Never had she let herself go in this way with another body, and never had another body let itself go with her in this way. Her lover could play with her belly, but he had never lived in there; he could touch her breast, but he never drunk from it."
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"You don't need sex to make love, but you need love to make sex."
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Personal Development
"Why is it you tell me the truth only when you've fallen asleep? It's then that you visit me."
Author Name
Personal Development
"I love you as my shadow loves me."
Author Name
Personal Development
"Come, let us speak with our bodies.Teach me how to please you.I am here to learn.Let us not waste this time.It is the hour of union.ComeAnd after you do,Come again."
Author Name
Personal Development
"I hope you know I love you, not just because I tell you so at every opportunity, but because I show you so as often as the sun sets."
Author Name
Personal Development
"Sex becomes less and less pleasurable in a relationship over time. Your brain gets habituated to the sensual stimulation from your specific partner as you are exposed to it repeatedly. It doesn't mean that the love is gone from the relationship. Love still exists beyond the barriers of time, in the form of attachment, which becomes independent of sexual intimacy after the euphoric stage of mad love."
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Personal Development
"She leaned into me, and when I closed my eyes, I knew I wanted nothing more than to hold her this way forever."
Author Name
Personal Development
"The feelings in love and the orgasm in sex are the supernatural powers inside every one of us."
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Personal Development
"Adam smiled cheerily. Ronan would start wars and burn cities for that true smile, elastic and amiable."
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Personal Development
"That's love: Two lonely persons keep each other safe and touch each other and talk to each other."
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Personal Development
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"He was no longer quite sure whether anything he had ever thought or felt was truly his own property, or whether his thoughts were merely a common part of the world's store of ideas which had always existed ready-made and which people only borrowed, like books from a library."
Philosophy
"He took her in his arms and lifted her up. She looked at him and he noticed only now that her eyes were full of tears. He pressed her to him. She understood that he loved her and this suddenly filled her with sadness. She felt sad that he loved her so much, and she felt like crying."
Love
"A person's destiny often ends before his death."
Fate
"Is not an event in fact more significant and noteworthy the greater the number of fortuities necessary to bring it about? ... Everything that occurs out of necessity, everything expected, repeated day in and day out, is mute. Only chance can speak to us."
Fate
"I was not a hypocrite, with one real face and several false ones. I had several faces because I was young and didn't know who I was or wanted to be."
Identity
"Once the writer in every individual comes to life (and that time is not far off), we are in for an age of universal deafness and lack of understanding."
Writing
"Laughter was like an enormous trap waiting patiently in the room with them, but hidden behind a thin wall."
Emotion
"Most people willingly deceive themselves with a doubly false faith; they believe in eternal memory (of men, things, deeds, peoples) and in rectification (of deeds, errors, sins, injustice). Both are sham. The truth lies at the opposite end of the scale: everything will be forgotten and nothing will be rectified. All rectification (both vengeance and forgiveness) will be taken over by oblivion."
Forgetting
"Tell me, where in life is there a value that would make us consider suicide uncalled for on principle! Love? Or friendship? I guarantee that friendship is not a bit less fickle than love and it is impossible to build anything on it. Self-love? I wish it were possible."
Values
"Brod was a brilliant intellectual with exceptional energy; a generous man willing to do battle for others; his attachment to Kafka was warm and disinterested. The only problem was his artistic orientation: a man of ideas, he knew nothing of the passion for form; his novels (he wrote twenty of them) are sadly conventional; and above all: he understood nothing at all about modern art.Why, despite all this, was Kafka so fond of him? What about you-do you stop being fond of your best friend because he has a compulsion to write bad verse?"
Friendship
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