Libba Bray Quotes

But with exquisite breathing you smile, with satisfaction of love, And I touch you again as you tick in the silence and settle in sleep.

He knelt and bent lower, till her breath warmed his face, and in a moment his cheek was in contact with hers. She was sleeping soundly, and upon her eyelashes there lingered tears.

My softer side? I mean, I like to snuggle.

I liked just being with you. I liked the way you breathed when you were asleep. I liked when you took the champagne glass from my hand. I liked how your fingers were always too long for your gloves.

And we stood like that. The joining of hands is highly underrated in the acts of intimacy. You kiss acquaintances or colleagues, casually to say hello or good-bye. You might even kiss a close friend chastely on the lips. You might quickly hug anyone you knew. You might even meet someone at a party, take him home and sleep with him, never to see him or hear from him again. But to join hands and stand holding each other that way, with the electricity of possibilities flowing between you? The tenderness of it, the promise of it, is only something you share with a few people in your life.

I waited just to see you at that kind of peace, I wanted to be beside you, I wanted you to wake up slowly or startle, or just half awaken and turn over or murmur my name. I wanted to watch you forever, or sleep beside you forever, or sleep forever while you woke and watched me, something forever anyway. I wanted to kiss you, rumple your hair, rest three fingertips on your hip bone warm and smooth, wake you that way or hush you back to sleep.

I don't like sleeping with people I really love. I don't want to sleep with them because sex cannot last, but affection can last forever.

With the most infinite tenderness I have ever known in my life, he put his arms around me, gently, gently, and I embraced him around the neck, and we touched.

I don’t suppose I really know you very well - but I know you smell like the delicious damp grass that grows near old walls and that your hands are beautiful opening out of your sleeves and that the back of your head is a mossy sheltered cave when there is trouble in the wind and that my cheek just fits the depression in your shoulder.

He had her in his arms, her face like a wet flower at his lips, and all their vain terrors shriveling up like ghosts at sunrise.

I love you," he whispered. "I hope you don't mind.

When I'm in love with a woman, seeing her in something cozy makes me not want to let go of her when I'm holding her.

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

Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place.

I want so much for my lover. At night when our beds are drawn close together I waken and see his dear yellow head on the pillow - sometimes his arm thrown over on my bed - and I kiss his hand, very softly so that it will not waken him.

Love consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other.

Speak low, if you speak love.

The most powerful symptom of love is a tenderness which becomes at times almost insupportable.

I have looked into your eyes with my eyes. I have put my heart near your heart.

Kissing is kind of scary.

I have a lot of people in my life, and I think there's something key: the thing that leads to intimacy and relationship and connection is tenderness.

How genuine is my capacity for love if there is no one for me to love, to laugh with, to treat tenderly, to be trusted by?

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

When i'm with you my blood flows smoothly through

Soft closer of our eyes! Low murmur of tender lullabies!