Graham Chapman Quotes

A good love story always keeps the pot boiling.

There is that awful moment when you realize that you're falling in love. That should be the most joyful moment, and actually it's not. It's always a moment that's full of fear because you know, as night follows day, the joy is going to rapidly be followed by some pain or other. All the angst of a relationship.

I think everybody can relate to loving somebody and them bringing out a wild side in you.

Romance takes place when you first fall in love. It stirs all emotions and you can manipulate and be manipulated.

The way I look at love is you have to follow it, and fall hard, if you fall hard. You have to forget about what everyone else thinks. It has to be an us-against-the-world mentality. You have to make it work by prioritizing it, and by falling in love really fast, without thinking too hard. If I think too hard about a relationship I'll talk myself out of it. I have rules for a lot of areas of my life. Love is not going to be one of them.

Love is a game-yes? I think it is a drowning.

Love is something you fall into.

This thing called love was a total mystery to me, but the vagaries of passion and despair that accompanied each devotion kept my life in high drama.

Me and crazy Janey were making love in the dirt singing our birthday songs.

If she says goodbye perhaps adieu. Adieu - like those old time songs she sang. Always adieu (and all songs say it). If she too says it, or weeps, I'll take her in my arms, my lunatic. She's mad but mine, mine. What will I care for gods or devils or for Fate itself. If she smiles or weeps or both. For me.

I am in love and, my God, it is the greatest thing that can happen to a man.

I'd be happy to die for a taste of what Angel had. Someone to live for. Unafraid to say I love you.

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.

I will remember the kisses, our lips raw with love, and how you gave me everything you had and how I offered you what was left of me.

Love me like you'll never see me again.

Art is much, but love is more.

You sound worked up. Really worked up. No, that's not it. You sound agitated...flustered...aroused." I could feel her eyes widen. "He kissed you, didn't he?" No answer. "He did! I knew it! I've seen the way he looks at you. I knew this was coming. I saw it from a mile away." I didn't want to think about it. "What was it like?" Vee pressed. "A peach kiss? A plum kiss? Or an al-fal-fa kiss?" "What?" "Was it a peck, did mouths part, or was there tongue? Never mind. You don't have to answer that. Patch isn't the kind of guy to deal with preliminaries. There was tongue involved. Guaranteed.

I am here because of love.

Guinevere and Arthur's story is so about the passion. It's about the sexual attraction between them. You can't have that story and show that sexual attraction with them kissing, and then shut the door. It just doesn't work. It's such an important part of their relationship and what happens in Camelot later on. It's who they are and how they bond.

When a man is in love very little is enough to throw him into despair and as little to enhance his joy to the utmost.

To describe love-making is immoral and immodest; you know it is. To describe it as it really is, or would appear to you and me as lookers-on, would be to describe the most dreary farce, to chronicle the most tautological twaddle. To take note of sighs, hand-squeezes, looks at the moon, and so forth--does this business become our dignity as historians? Come away from those foolish young people--they don't want us; and dreary as their farce is, and tautological as their twaddle, you may be sure it amuses them, and that they are happy enough without us.

I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you,” he whispered. “Lucky them.

Do me wrong, do me right, tell me lies, but hold me tight.

There are only three things worthwhile -- fighting, drinking, and making love.

'Cause your love got the best of me, and baby you're making a fool of me. You got me sprung and i don't care who sees, 'cause baby you got me so crazy.