John Updike Quotes

Soul meets soul on lovers' lips.

They linger near the back door, forehead to forehead and curved like statues as their lips whisper and brush together.

The first time he'd held her hand, it felt so good that it crowded out all the bad things. It felt better than anything had ever hurt.

With my hand in his, I looked at all the apartment buildings with rushes of love, peering in the wide streetside windows that revealed living rooms painted in dark burgandies and matte reds.

You know it's love when you want to keep holding hands even after you're sweaty.

The essence of romantic love is that wonderful beginning, after which sadness and impossibility may become the rule.

Love is the same as like except you feel sexier.

Love is the eternal quest: almost everyone wants to love and be loved.

Romantic love, or sex, is the only good thing in a life that is being lived in a dark way.

Love is just chemistry.

More than kisses, letters mingle souls.

The real lover is the man who can thrill you just by touching your head or smiling into your eyes - or just by staring into space.

Don't know much, but I know I love you.

The glance of Love is crystal clear.

When a man's hand touches the hand of a woman, they both touch the heart of eternity.

We walked back to iDEATH, holding hands. Hands are very nice things, especially after they have travelled back from making love.

Oh, hasten not this loving act, Rapture where self and not-self meet: My life has been the awaiting you, Your footfall was my own heart's beat.

Every romance does not lead to sex.

He bent, lips coming to mine and — 'Derek? Chloe?' It was Kit, opening the back door. Derek let out a low growl. 'Never fails.' I turned to Kit. 'How is she?' 'We’re going to take her back to the house now. She’s unconscious again.' 'Then we’ll walk back,' Derek said. 'Give you room in the van to lay her down.' His dad agreed and went back inside. As we walked toward the steps, I looked down at Derek’s hand, holding mine. 'No one’s around,' he said. 'And we can take the back way.' 'Good,' I said, and entwined my fingers with his.

We efface an hour by passionate love, without twists, without aftertaste. When it is finished, it is not finished, we lie still in each other's arms lulled by our love, by tenderness -- sensuality in which the whole being can participate.

Lovers are made by a kiss.

Holding Eleanor’s hand was like holding a butterfly. Or a heartbeat. Like holding something complete, and completely alive. As soon as he touched her, he wondered how he’d gone this long without doing it. He rubbed his thumb through her palm and up her fingers, and was aware of her every breath.

To Grace, these were the things that mattered: my hands on her cheeks, my lips on her mouth. The fleeting touches that meant I loved her.

All I want is moonlight, with you there inside of me, all night, doing it again and again. You know I want you so bad.