Aaliyah Quotes

It's nice to finally be thought of as sexy. I'm very disconnected from the sensual side of me, I know it's in me, but it doesn't really reveal itself very often in my personal life, which I do find problematic.

My approach has always been rather sensual.

It was just me, naked as underneath my clothes right now, as all of you are.

Intimacy starts with a relationship with yourself, an understanding of who you are.

Only intimacy with the self will bring about true healing.

When you look back... on your love affairs... what you really find out is that the only person you really go to bed with is yourself.

Sex in general, for me, is a lot of different aspects of humanity, not just my relationships. It's my relationship to myself and my body.

She had been looking all along for a friend, and it took her a while to discover that a lover was not a comrade and could never be - for a woman. And that no one would ever be that version of herself which she sought to reach out to and touch with an ungloved hand. There was only her own mood and whim, and if that was all there was, she decided to turn the naked hand toward it, discover it and let others become as intimate with their own selves as she was.

Radical self-care is what we've been longing for, desperate for, our entire lives-friendship with our own hearts.

Sex without smiling is as sickly and as base as vodka and tonic without ice.

But to be able to kiss someone you love when you're fully and completely in control of yourself and know who you are...it's exquisite. How we love others is affected by how we love ourselves.

You've got to have someone who loves your body. Who doesn't define you, but sees you. Who loves what he sees. Who you don't have to struggle to be good enough for.

And to know me, as you have discovered, is to love me.

One must accept the fact that we have only one companion in this world, a companion who accompanies us from the cradle to the grave - our own self. Get on good terms with that companion - learn to live with yourself.

The lover is moved by the beloved object as the senses are by sensual objects; and they unite and become one and the same thing. The work is the first thing born of this union; if the thing loved is base the lover becomes base.

When she comes She pulls you close She breathes in short bursts Her eyes close Her head tilts back Her mouth opens slightly Her thighs turn to steel, and then melt She is perfect And you feel like you are everything.

Sexual pleasure, wisely used and not abused, may prove the stimulus and liberator of our finest and most exalted activities.

To sleep with a woman: it can seem of the utmost importance in your mind, or then again it can seem like nothing much at all. Which only goes to say that there's sex as therapy (self-therapy, that is) and there's sex as pastime.

She rested her head against his and felt, for the first time, what she would often feel with him: a self-affection. He made her like herself. With him, she was at ease; her skin felt as though it was her right size.. It seemed so natural, to talk to him about odd things. She had never done that before. The trust, so sudden and yet so complete, and the intimacy, frightened her.. But now she could think only of all the things she yet wanted to tell him, wanted to do with him.

Self-consciousness is the destroyer of erotic joy.

Will is a very interesting, unique man, and I'll tell you why. He makes love like a woman. He loves to touch, massage and feel. He makes love like he's in touch with himself, who he is. And he's a very sensual, incredible lovemaker.

Making love to a woman is like buying real estate: location, location, location.

I think of making love and making art as being very parallel. Even the most amateur attempt can be thrilling.

They dream of men with gentle hands, eloquent with tenderness, fingers that brushed along a cheek, that outlined open lips in the lovers' braille. Hands that sculpted sweetness from sullen flesh, that traced breast and ignited hips, opening, kneading. Flesh becomes bread in the heat of those hands, braided and rising.