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.
Interpretation
This quote beautifully illustrates the intimate connection and tenderness shared between lovers through the metaphor of touch.
Janet Fitch's quote conveys the deep and sensual connection that love can foster between two people. It emphasizes the power of physical touch and the ability of gentle hands to awaken desire and emotion, transforming bodies into vessels of affection and creativity, much like bread rises and becomes something wonderful when nurtured.
In practice
This quote can be shared at a wedding to emphasize the beauty of love and touch in a relationship.
How could anybody confuse truth with beauty, I thought as I looked at him. Truth came with sunken eyes, bony or scarred, decayed. Its teeth were bad, its hair gray and unkempt. While beauty was empty as a gourd, vain as a parakeet. But it had power. It smelled of musk and oranges and made you close your eyes in a prayer.
I nodded. A man's world. But what did it mean? That men whistled and stared and yelled things at you, and you had to take it, or you get raped or beat up? A man's world meant places men could go but not women. It meant they had more money,and didn't have kids, not the way women did, to look after every second. And it meant that women loved them more than they loved the women, that they could want something with all their hearts, and then not.
Their love as a dragonfly, skimming over echo park, stoppin to visit the lotus. Eating dreams and drinking blue sky.
Death like a lover, caressing him, promising him peace, running its fingers through his hair, its tongue in his ear. She put her own two fingers in her mouth. Im so sorry. And pulled the trigger
Whenever she turned her steep focus to me, I felt the warmth that flowers must feel when they bloom through the snow, under the first concentrated rays of the sun.
I hated labels anyway. People didn't fit in slots--prostitute, housewife, saint--like sorting the mail. We were so mutable, fluid with fear and desire, ideals and angles, changeable as water.
I only drink champagne on two occasions.When I am in love and when I am not
A lot of people are living with mental illness around them. Either you love one or you are one.
It's a form of human love to accept our complicated, messy humanity and not run away from it.
We've got this gift of love, but love is like a precious plant. You can't just accept it and leave it in the cupboard or just think it's going to get on by itself. You've got to keep watering it. You've got to really look after it and nurture it.
You don't have to be born beautiful to be wildly attractive.
She wore far too much rouge last night and not quite enough clothes. That is always a sign of despair in a woman.
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