Andy Warhol Quotes

There was a dull pang of regret because it was not the kiss of love which had inflamed her, because it was not love which had held this cup of life to her lips.

The song Venus de Milo, the whole subject of it is Love is a drug.

Absence does not make the heart grow fonder, but it sure heats up the blood.

I've only fallen in love once, and once was enough for me, but that doesn't mean my eyes won't wander, and it doesn't mean I won't flirt!

By my soul, I can neither eat, drink, nor sleep; nor, what's still worse, love any woman in the world but her.

It's the ones who resist that we most want to kiss, wouldn't you say?

Today I will go to wait for her again, because I cannot help it, because my whole being seems now to be bound up in the being of one so different from myself and yet so exquisitely familiar that I can scarely understand what has happened.

You shook his hand?" Adrian asked incredulously … “With all that red-hot passion, it’s a wonder you guys can stay away from each other

The fact is, I love him. He's the boy I want and one day he'll be MINE.

I have pursued her, as love hath pursued me

For three months, a person sits and looks at you, imagining a kiss.

Alex gazed at her. Her mouth was slightly open; she ran her fingernail against her lower teeth as she thought. She'd knotted her hair at the nape of her neck again, and a strand had slipped loose onto her shoulder, gleaming in the lantern light. Suddenly all of his objections seemed meaningless. Don't, he thought. You'll regret it. He didn't care anymore. Slowly, unable to stop himself, he reached out and cupped his hand around her foot.

Love is madness, if thwarted it develops fast.

Until then, mio dolce amor, a thousand kisses; but give me none in return, for they set my blood on fire.

For did my dreams come true when I looked at you. And maybe too, if you would believe, you too might be overjoyed, over loved, over me.

It is more erotic to wonder if you're about to be kissed than it is to be kissed.

I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip

How I waited for you! How I longed for you! he stammered. "I thought of you all the time. I saw you all the time. Your smile was everywhere." He lowered his voice and added, "Sometimes when people were talking commonplaces and your name happened to be mentioned, It would go through my heart like an electric current.

I want you bad like a natural disaster. You are all I see. You are the only one I want to know.

He loved her. He wanted her. He needed her. And he needed her now.

I have always been the lover - never the beloved - and I have spent much of my life waiting for trains, planes, boats, footsteps, doorbells, letters, telephones, snow, rain, thunder.

Please let him come, and give me the resilience & guts to make him respect me, be interested, and not to throw myself at him with loudness or hysterical yelling; calmly, gently, easy baby easy. He is probably strutting the backs among crocuses now with seven Scandinavian mistresses. And I sit, spiderlike, waiting, here, home; Penelope weaving webs of Webster, turning spindles of Tourneur. Oh, he is here; my black marauder; oh hungry hungry. I am so hungry for a big smashing creative burgeoning burdened love: I am here; I wait; and he plays on the banks of the river Cam like a casual faun.

Her lips were drawn to his like a moth to a flame.

Desire, even in its wildest tantrums, can neither persuade me it is love nor stop me from wishing it were.

Passionate love is a quenchless thirst.