I turned on the pillow with a little moan, and at this juncture Jeeves entered with the vital oolong. I clutched at it like a drowning man at a straw hat.
P. G. WodehouseRead
She could not have gazed at him with a more rapturous intensity if she had been a small child and he a saucer of ice cream.
Interpretation
The quote expresses deep affection and admiration, likening it to a child's delight in ice cream.
This quote by P. G. Wodehouse illustrates a passionate and intense gaze filled with love and desire, drawing a playful comparison to how a small child revels in the joy of ice cream. This metaphor highlights the purity and depth of feeling one can have for another, emphasizing the excitement and enchantment that often accompanies romantic attraction.
In practice
This quote can be shared in a romantic context during a wedding speech.
I turned on the pillow with a little moan, and at this juncture Jeeves entered with the vital oolong. I clutched at it like a drowning man at a straw hat.
While not exactly disgruntled, he was far from feeling gruntled. He spoke with a certain what-is-it in his voice, and I could see that, if not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled.
She fitted into my biggest arm-chair as if it had been built round her by someone who knew they were wearing arm-chairs tight about the hips that season
It was a nasty look. It made me feel as if I were something the dog had brought in and intended to bury later on, when he had time.
Memories are like mulligatawny soup in a cheap restaurant. It is wiser not to stir them.
It was a confusion of ideas between him and one of the lions he was hunting in Kenya that had caused A. B. Spottsworth to make the obituary column. He thought the lion was dead, and the lion thought it wasn't.
She said the reason that love is so painful is that it always amounts to two people wanting more than two people can give.
There is no sweeter pleasure than to surprise a man by giving him more than he hopes for.
But you could not have pure love or pure lust nowadays. No emotion was pure, because everything was mixed up with fear and hatred. Their embrace had been a battle, the climax a victory. It was a blow struck against the Party. It was a political act.
Eroticism is one of the basic means of self-knowledge, as indispensable as poetry.
It's total bullshit," he said. "The whole thing. Eighty percent survival rate and he's in the twenty percent? Bullshit. He was such a bright kid. It's bullshit. I hate it. But it was sure a privilege to love him, huh?
A nun of winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously; the very ice of chastity is in them.
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