Glen Duncan Quotes

Love is an exploding cigar we willingly smoke.

My best friend and I went to sleep-away camp every summer. We'd share stories of making out with boys, but we never did, so we made it all up. My real first kiss was at a friend's house when I was in junior high. He was such a good kisser, and we're still close friends!

The lover as baby is a less troubling idea than the baby as lover.

Love says, mine. Love says, I could eat you up. Love says, stay as you are, be my own private thing, don't you dare have ideas I don't share. Love has just got to gobble the other, bones and all, crunch. I don't want to do that. I sure don't want it done to me!

Women love those best (whether men, women, or children) who give them most pain.

He hugged her tight, mixing their tears to be bottled and fermented, so they could be drunk on each other when this was all over.

For this moment, this one moment, we are together. I press you to me. Come, pain, feed on me. Bury your fangs in my flesh. Tear me asunder. I sob, I sob.

Love seems the swiftest, but it is the slowest of growths

A girl's legs are her best friends...but even the best of friends must part.

When the person beside you is making you alert and keen and the idea of being with anyone else is not imaginable.

We know one another's faults, virtues, catastrophes, mortifications, triumphs, rivalries, desires, and how long we can each hang by our hands to a bar. We have been banded together under pack codes and tribal laws.

Our greatest longing is to be intimate.

It's more intimate. Food can connect people in a forever sort of way.

He carried Paul inside and up the stairs. He gave him a drink of water and the orange chewable aspirin he like and sat with him on the bed, holding his hand...This was what he yearned to capture on film: these rare moments where the world seemed unified, coherent, everything contained in a single fleeting image. A spareness that held beauty and hope and motion - a kind of silvery poetry, just as the body was poetry in blood and flesh and bone.

Love, we are a small pond.

I think of friendship in terms of love.

He was so far from the gallant knights in her romantic fantasies ... He was tarnished, scarred, imperfect. Deliberately he had destroyed any illusions she might have had about him, exposing his mysterious past for the ugly horror that it was. His purpose had been to drive her away. But instead she felt closer to him, as if the truth had bonded them in a new intimacy.

If I had my way we'd sleep every night all wrapped around each other like hibernating rattlesnakes.

To anyone else, Xavier's use of the word angel would have sounded like nothing more than a lovesick teenager professing his admiration. Only the two of us knew differently and now we both shared a secret- that brought us closer than ever. It was as if we had just sealed the bond between us, closed the gap, and made it final.

It was like they waited to tell each other things that had never been told before. What she had to say was terrible and afraid. But what he would tell her was so true that it would make everything all right. Maybe it was a thing that could not be spoken with words or writing. Maybe he would have to let her understand this in a different way. That was the feeling she had with him.

Habit, of which passion must be wary, may all the same be the sweetest part of love.

Love, which teacheth me that thou and I am one

No matter what form the relationship might take, he was the only person she could picture sharing her life with.

In real life I'd say we're more bromantic. It's like we're literally like a married couple kind of.

I have already spent roughly five thousand hours asleep next to you. This has to mean something.