Dave Attell Quotes

I've always loved kissing. We all do, don't we?

Can you even imagine not hugging?

He slides his hand over my cheek, one finger anchored behind my ear. Then he tilts his head down and kisses me, sending a warm ache through my body. I wrap my hands around his arm, holding him there as long as I can. When he touches me, the hollowed-out feeling in my chest and stomach is not as noticeable.

Sunday night meant, in the dark, wintry, rainy Midlands ... anywhere where two creatures might stand and squeeze together and spoon.... Spooning was a fine art, whereas kissing and cuddling are calf-processes.

Sex, on the whole, was meant to be short, nasty and brutish. If what you want is cuddling, you should buy a puppy.

Intimacy can be about holding someone's hand. It could be about stroking their hair.

If I held you any closer I would be on the other side of you.

Kissing someone is pretty intimate, actually very intimate, and your heart always kind of skips a beat before you do that.

Sex is a two-way treat.

The kinds of roles dogs fill can be hard to come by in human relationships. We touch the dog or the pet at whim. There is a lack of self-consciousness and a fluidity to it that is absent from most human relationships. If someone acted that way to you, you'd feel claustrophobic pretty quickly. It's a boundary violation.

Being cuddly has nothing to do with size.

I love gross kissing. I think it's the most fun thing to do.

I've had girls that kissed me on the cheek. People get so pumped, and so excited, they don't see you as a person. Which is fair. Sometimes, I don't see people as people. But at the end of the day, you can't put your hands on me unless I hug you first.

I am a hug-and-kiss person.

I like hugging who I like to hug and I want to be hugged by whom I want to hug.

I want to hold you, Nikki. Will you let me?

I was making love to a man, a man I hardly even know. He was kissing the face off me and I was kissing the face off him. And I found it highly satisfactory.

The first undressing of two lovers is a most special event.

Make me feel at home, if you really care, scratch my back and run your pretty fingers through my hair.

Touching his hair, she leaned hesitantly forward, and he folded his arms around her, sinking into sensation again as they kissed--the slight weight of her on his lap, the smell of her. He glided his hands up the warm dip of her spine, felt her shiver and press closer. He could never get enough of this. Never.

Conall,” “Aye, Alexia?” He looked up at her. Was that fear in his caramel eyes? “I am going to take advantage of you,” she said

I believe that the way to a man's heart is not through his stomach. It's a little further south.

Don’t take your hands off me even once tonight.” (Vlad)

As his hands moved to his trousers, he saw that she was pulling the bedsheets over her. "Don't," he said, barely recognizing his own voice. Her eyes met his, and he said, "I'll be your blanket".

She praised his book and he embraced her from gratitude rather than lust, but she didn't let go. Neither did he. She kissed his cheek, his earlobe. For months they'd run their fingers around the hem of their affection without once acknowledging the fabric. The circumference of the world tightened to what their arms encompassed. She sat on the desk, between the columns of read and unread manuscript, and pulled him toward her by his index fingers.