Patti Smith Quotes

I want to take you for pleasure, and hold you in my arms for desire. I want you to know that it is your kiss that I want, not another heir to the throne. You can know that I love you, quite for yourself, when I come to your bed, and not as the York’s broodmare.” I tilt back my head and look at him under my eyelashes. “You think to bed me for love and not for children? Isn’t that sin?” His arm comes around my waist and his palm cups my breast. “I shall make sure that it feels richly sinful,” - Edward IV to Elizabeth Woodville -

I do not make films primarily for children. I make them for the child in all of us, whether we be six or sixty.

I adhere to the religion of art and music and small children.

If we can reach in wih the art and touch the imagination of the child, no matter who, we have affected that child.

The child and the great artist -- these alone receive the sensation fresh as it was at the beginning of the world.

The spirit of poetry combines the profundity of the philosopher and the child's delight in bright pictures.

Dream happy dreams. You are the only one who has ever touched my heart. It will always be yours. Sleep,my only love.

I understand thy kisses, and thou mine, And that's a feeling disputation.

Something of the child's pure delight in creation survives in every true work of art.

The artist has to look at life as he did when he was a child. If he loses that faculty, he cannot express himself in an original, that is, a personal way.

What I notice is that every adult or child I give a new set of Crayolas to goes a little funny. The kids smile, get a glazed look on their faces, pour the crayons out, and just look at them for a while....The adults always get the most wonderful kind of sheepish smile on their faces--a mixture of delight and nostalgia and silliness. And they immediately start telling you about all their experiences with Crayolas.

When soul rises Into lips You feel the kiss You have wanted

Since the invention of the kiss, there have only been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind.

When children listen to music, they don't just listen. They melt into the melody and flow with the rhythm. Something inside starts to unfold its wings - soon the child and the music are one.

Ask nothing more of me sweet; All I can give you I give; Heart of my heart were it more, More would be laid at your feet.

Love Is a curious thing. Sometimes it barrels into you, leaves you breathless. Other times, it comes in- to your life, a tentative beam of morning sun sneaking through the blinds, and you think this light isn't possible. The shutters are drawn. Night should linger on. I don't feel like waking. Yet the room comes slowly lit. Sleep slithers away, and at last you can no longer deny the dawning.

He nuzzled in at her neck kissing and licking her softly just below her ear. “Just a moment ” he said. “I need a small reminder that you are here you are whole and you are mine.

I stood on my toes and stole a soft kiss from his lips. "Surprise attack," I said. Sam leaned down and kissed me back, his mouth lingering on mine, teeth grazing my lower lip, making me shiver. "Surprise attack back." "Sneaky," I said, my voice breathier than I intended.

The way you wear your hat, The way you sip your tea, The mem'ry of all that -- No, no! They can't take that away from me!

I lean over and put my good ear to his lips, which tickle me as he whispers. "Remember, we're madly in love, so it's all right to kiss me any time you like it.

Children, Never look Back!" and this meant that we must never allow the future to be weighed down by memory . for children have no past, and that is the whole secret of the magical innocence of their smiles.

Be as romantic as you please about love ... but you mustn't be romantic about money.

It is those pent-up, craving children who make all the wars and all the horrors and all the art and all the beauty and discovery in life, because they are trying to achieve what lay beyond their grasp before they were five years old.

A perfect writer would make words sing, dance, kiss, do the male and female act, bear children, weep, bleed, rage, stab, steal, fire cannon, steer ships, sack cities, charge with cavalry or infantry, or do anything that man or woman or the natural powers can do.