My first language was shy. It's only by having been thrust into the limelight that I have learned to cope with my shyness.
By my makeup and temperament I wasn't really prey to physical desires. Everything happened in my head.
A truly submissive woman is to be treasured, cherished and protected for it is only she who can give a man the gift of dominance.
O felt that her mouth was beautiful, since her lover condescended to thrust himself into it. . .
Lovers and mystics are familiar with this sense of grandeur, this taste of joy - in abandoning oneself to the will of others.
A man in love. . . is the master, so it seems, but only if his lady friend permits it! The need to interchange the roles of slave and master for the sake of the relationship is never more clearly demonstrated than in the course of an affair. Never is the complicity between victim and executioner more essential. Even chained, down on her knees, begging for mercy, it is the woman, finally, who is in command. . . the all powerful slave, dragging herself along the ground at her master's heels, is now really the god. The man is only her priest, living in fear and trembling of her displeasure.
To love is to live on the precipice.
Words and pictures can work together to communicate more powerfully than either alone.
The long words are not the hard words, it is the short words that are hard. There is much more metaphysical subtlety in the word "damn" than in the word "degeneration. "
If there is such a thing as a workaholic, I'm it, and that's what passes for leisure.
I'm pretty sure that the Walkmen are the band that I've paid to see the most in my life.