Making Love Quotes

“So she thoroughly taught him that one cannot take pleasure without giving pleasure, and that every gesture, every caress, every touch, every glance, every last bit of the body has its secret, which brings happiness to the person who knows how to wake it. She taught him that after a celebration of love the lovers should not part without admiring each other, without being conquered or having conquered, so that neither is bleak or glutted or has the bad feeling of being used or misused.”
― Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha

“Making love, she'd always believed, was more than simply a pleasurable act between two people. It encompassed all that a couple was supposed to share: trust & commitment, hopes & dreams, a promise to make it through whatever the future might bring.”
― Nicholas Sparks, Nights in Rodanthe

“Ô, Wanderess, Wanderess
When did you feel your
most euphoric kiss?
Was I the source
of your greatest bliss?”
― Roman Payne

“The only way to behave to a woman is to make love to her if she is pretty, and to someone else if she is plain.”
― Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest

“There’s a huge difference in sex and making love. We have sex with someone who can satisfy us physically, but we make love to someone who can satisfy us soulfully and eternally. Once you realize the fine-line between making love and having sex, you will understand the meaning of life! Life isn’t only about survival, it’s about living and so is making love. We have sex to satisfy our lust and hunger, which is nothing, but survival, but we make love to feed our soul and our mind, to fill a void that is there since a long time, that longs for a partner and that needs someone whom we want to spend the next morning with!

When you have sex just for physical pleasure, you are ashamed and guilty at one point of life or another, but when you make love to someone who means everything to you, you are always proud of it. Never in life, not even a single time, you regret that time and the moments spent with that person. You will always rejoice it and remember it with equal passion and joy.”
― Mehek Bassi

“The Knowing

Afterwards, when we have slept, paradise-
comaed and woken, we lie a long time
looking at each other.
I do not know what he sees, but I see
eyes of surpassing tenderness
and calm, a calm like the dignity
of matter. I love the open ocean
blue-grey-green of his iris, I love
the curve of it against the white,
that curve the sight of what has caused me
to come, when he’s quite still, deep
inside me. I have never seen a curve
like that, except the earth from outer
space. I don’t know where he got
his kindness without self-regard,
almost without self, and yet
he chose one woman, instead of the others.

By knowing him, I get to know
the purity of the animal
which mates for life. Sometimes he is slightly
smiling, but mostly he just gazes at me gazing,
his entire face lit. I love
to see it change if I cry–there is no worry,
no pity, no graver radiance. If we
are on our backs, side by side,
with our faces turned fully to face each other,
I can hear a tear from my lower eye
hit the sheet, as if it is an early day on earth,
and then the upper eye’s tears
braid and sluice down through the lower eyebrow
like the invention of farmimg, irrigation, a non-nomadic people.

I am so lucky that I can know him.
This is the only way to know him.
I am the only one who knows him.

When I wake again, he is still looking at me,
as if he is eternal. For an hour
we wake and doze, and slowly I know
that though we are sated, though we are hardly
touching, this is the coming the other
coming brought us to the edge of–we are entering,
deeper and deeper, gaze by gaze,
this place beyond the other places,
beyond the body itself, we are making
love.”
― Sharon Olds

“I blame my mother for my poor sex life. All she told me was 'the man goes on top and the woman underneath.' For three years my husband and I slept in bunk beds.”
― Joan Rivers

“SAUL: 'We made love outdoors, my favorite place to make love, assuming the weather be fair and balmy, and the earth beneath be clean. Our souls intertwined and dripping with sweat.”
― Roman Payne

“The green-eyed angel came in less than a half hour and fell docile as a lamb into my arms. We kissed and caressed, I met no resistance when I unlaced the strings to free her dress and fill myself in the moist and hot bed nature made between her thighs. We made love outdoors—without a roof, I like most, without stove, my favorite place, assuming the weather be fair and balmy, and the earth beneath be clean. Our souls intertwined and dripping with dew, and our love for each other was seen. Our love for the world was new.”
― Roman Payne

“If this were a different time, a different place, I would take you to bed with me and make love to you for days.”
― Anne Stuart, Black Ice

“You are like a god, like an immortal one,' she whispered to me one night in our bed, her naked body pressed to mine, our sweat golden and glistening in the candlelight. 'Oh, my love,' I whispered back to her, 'I am more mortal than all. It seems that a part of me dies every night that I lie with you.”
― Roman Payne

“But Katie knew it was a sin, had known from the moment she made the decision to lie with Adam. However, the transgression wasn't making love without the sanction of marriage. It was that for the first time in her life, Katie had put herself first. Put her own wants and needs above everything and everyone else.”
― Jodi Picoult, Plain Truth

“He never knew a single second could be expanded into something timeless and so archaic. It shook him to his core – there were no words for it.”
― Dianna Hardy, The Sands Of Time

“sex is not limited to a place like the bed. It can take place in the bathroom, the kitchen, the garden and even the shed.”
― Mouloud Benzadi

“Do you remember what we just did? Please tell me you remember what we just did."

She briefly toyed with the idea of lying and saying no, just to see the look on his face, but she'd had enough of having her brain played with – it wouldn't be too sporting to do the same to him. "Yes, I remember, and don't you think for one minute that just because you had me on my back screaming I was 'yours'," she waved four fingers in quotation marks in front of his face, "that it gives you any kind of ownership over me, because it doesn't."

He looked annoyed, then relieved, then he laughed. "Yeah, whatever, baby.”
― Dianna Hardy, The Sands Of Time

“Favoring 'resolution' the way we do, it is hard for us men to write great love stories. Why?, because we want to tell too much. We aren’t satisfied unless at the end of the story the characters are lying there, panting.”
― Roman Payne

“I took her to bed with silk and song
'Lay still, my love, I won’t be long,
I must prepare my body for passion.'
'O, your body you give, but all else you ration...”
― Roman Payne

“I’m really not hungry,” she repeated, lifting the coffee cup and inhaling the fragrant steam before sipping.

“Just a few bites,” he cajoled, taking his own place beside her. “You need to keep up your strength for tonight.”

She gave him a heated, slumberous look, remembering her fantasy. “Why? Are you planning something special?”

“I suppose I am,” he said consideringly. “It’s special every time we make love.”
― Linda Howard, Loving Evangeline

“We made love outdoors—without a roof, I like most, without stove, my favorite place, assuming the weather be fair and balmy, and the earth beneath be clean. Our souls intertwined and dripping with dew, and our love for each other was seen. Our love for the world was new.”
― Roman Payne

“There was no world, no land, no god or heaven or earth outside of their two bodies naked and trembling in the act of love.”
― Roman Payne

“Inside her mind, she felt increasingly adrift, as if their lovemaking had reached a realm that transcended the physical body. She saw herself float above her body, past her ceiling, through her roof, and higher and higher, the entire world pulsating and alive with sensations. Even these receded as she floated above her town, the pinpoints of the shop windows and car headlights downtown, then she was even higher, above the mighty Mississippi.”
― Ray Smith, The Magnolia That Bloomed Unseen

“Without attachment, a naked body is merely a lifeless sex-toy.”
― Abhijit Naskar, The Bengal Tigress: A Treatise on Gender Equality

“We made love outdoors
Without a roof, I like most,
Without stove, to make love, assuming the weather be fair and balmy, and the earth beneath be clean. Our souls intertwined and gushing of dew.”
― Roman Payne

“Again, please,” she whispered.
(Allie to Wes)”
― Jodi Thomas, To Kiss a Texan

“Do you think about making love with me?"
I lie awake most nights, fantasizing about sleeping next to her ... loving her. "Right now, muneca, makin' love to you is the only thing on my mind.”
― Simone Elkeles, Perfect Chemistry

“Somehow, something changed. Something unspoken passed between us. I took my time exploring his body in a way I hadn't done before. I traced every line, every curve, and savored the feel of his skin beneath my lips and fingertips. We took our time, and enjoyed a tenderness I'd never experienced before.
For the first time in my life, I made love.”
― Holly Evans, Ink Bound

“Mestre. Say the word without hissing the conurbated villain, and pitying its citizens. As quickly as they can, two million tourists pass through, or by, Mestre each year, and each one will be struck by the same thought as they wonder at the aesthetic opposition that it represents. Mestre is an ugly town but ugly only in the same way that Michael Jackson might be desccribed as eccentric or a Tabasco Vindaloo flambéed in rocket fuel might be described as warm. Mestre is almost excremental in its hideousness: a fetid, fly-blown, festering, industrial urbanization, scarred with varicose motorways, flyovers, rusting railway sidings and the rubbish of a billion holidaymakers gradually burning, spewing thick black clouds into the Mediterranean sky. A town with apparently no centre, a utilitarian ever-expandable wasteland adapted to house the displaced poor, the shorebound, outpriced, domicile-deprived exiles from its neighbouring city. For, just beyond the condom- and polystyrene-washed, black-stained, mud shores of Marghera, Mestre's very own oil refinery, less than a mile away across the waters of the lagoon in full sight of its own dispossessed citizens, is the Jewel of Adriatic. Close enough for all to feel the magnetism, there stands the most beautiful icon of Renaissance glory and, like so much that can attract tourism, a place too lovely to be left in the hands of its natives, the Serenissima itself, Venice.”
― Marius Brill, Making Love: A Conspiracy of the Heart

“Qu'est-ce-que faire l'amour ? c'est languir après le tout proche, comme si une fois levés tout les obstacles, , dans le contact des peaux, et l'entralacement des epidermes, l'Autre refusait encore de se laisser prendre.”
― Alain Finkielkraut, La Sagesse de l'amour

“There is no reason to hate anybody, because we came into existence, not by hate-making, but through love-making.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson, Song of a Nature Lover

“Making love with strangers is how you get hurt.”
― Dominic Riccitello