Sampha Quotes

I don't know that sex always has to have feelings, but I think that friendship always does.

I'm not the type of guy who enjoys one-night stands. It leaves me feeling very empty and cynical. It's not even fun sexually. I need to feel something for the woman and entertain the vain hope that it may lead to a relationship.

Women can be quite intimate emotionally - they're very emotionally available.

You want to attach emotionally.

I had never been with a woman for longer than a night, and they had always been whores. And while throughout each of these speedy encounters I tried to maintain a friendliness with the women, I knew in my heart it was false, and afterward always felt remote and caved in. I had in the last year or so given up whores entirely, thinking it best to go without rather than pantomime human closeness.

Emotional affairs, those are the only real affairs; those are the real ones.

That was probably the mistake of my generation, that we thought that having sex with anyone would be intimate and it wasn't.

Women become attached to men by the intimacies they grant them; men are cured of their love by the same intimacies.

During sex, my girlfriend always wants to talk to me… Just the other night she called me from a hotel.

I think one of the lessons we learn in life - and it's an old lesson, but each of us has to learn it, if he does, individually - and that is that, in human relations, particularly sexual relations and so on, the person you might most trust and feel most comfortable and easy with isn't necessarily the person your heart is going to fall for.

I can understand companionship. I can understand bought sex in the afternoon, but I cannot understand the love affair.

I believe love opens people up.

The problem with prostitutes is, what if you actually like somebody you meet in that situation? Where do you go from there? What do you do?

I got to thinking about relationships and partial lobotomies. Two seemingly different ideas that might just be perfect together - like chocolate and peanut butter.

I would gladly have climbed out of my skin and into his that night, because I believed that was what love meant.

I believe love - and its feminine, though not necessarily female, counterpart, romance, is a private thing. It's something I'm not willing to share with the public.

Did you really think I'd ceased to care? Kitten, I care so much it wrecks me.

Well, you can think what you want, so long as you remember - no matter how ordinary things seem between us - I'm still here, still in love with you, and care about you more than any other guy, evil or otherwise, ever will.

Did last night really happen?" One side of his lips tipped up, and my chest swelled. I'd missed that smile. "Depends on what you think happend." "I took my shirt off for you?" His eyes deepened. "Yes. Lovely moment.

Why is it that some secrets can drown you while some pull you close to others in a way you never want to lose?

And now, as I'm lying alone in my own bed, I keep thinking about writhing against him last night, naked and vulnerable. Even after we'd both risen and fallen, peaked and plummeted, even after Marcus was physically shrinking from inside me, I couldn't stop clutching, crying, trying. Trying to pull him deeper, deeper, deeper within. Trying to make him more a part of me than I am myself.

Yet falling in love is not the same as being able to love.

Money cannot buy the fuel of love but is excellent kindling.

I think being someone in love is so hard to define, so temporary, because retrospectively we often deny the state in which we were in love.

I don't think you can define love.