You are the poet, you walk inside my dreams… — Anaïs Nin, Under a Glass Bell (Swallow Press, 1944)
Kisses dream of lips like yours. — Michael Faudet, Dirty Pretty Things. (Michael Faudet; First Edition edition, November 18, 2014)
I walk ahead of myself in perpetual expectancy of miracles. — Anaïs Nin, House of Incest. (Swallow Press; 1 edition, January 1, 1958) Originally published 1915.
ix nearer: breath of my breath: take not thy tingling limbs from me: make my pain their crazy meal letting thy tigers of smooth sweetness steal slowly in dumb blossoms of new mingling: deeper: blood of my blood: with upwardcringing swiftness plunge these leopards of white dream in the glad flesh of my fear: more… Continue reading E.E. Cummings
I desire her and I hate her. I would like to take her in my arms and embrace her till she smothered, till she was crushed and I could drink death from her gushing veins. — Octave Mirbeau, The Torture Garden. (Olympia Press; Revised Edition edition, August 28, 2005) Originally published 1899.
Darkness. Silence that weeps in my heart. Ashes on my hearth and the cry of a lonely bird at the window. The trees that shiver in the wind. Darkness. And youth passing by- … To listen and hear no footstep…. — Blanche Shoemaker Wagstaff, from “The Book of Love,” Poetica Erotica . (New York : M.… Continue reading Blanche Shoemaker Wagstaff
No lover, if he be of good faith, and sincere, will deny he would prefer to see his mistress dead than unfaithful. — Donatien Alphonse François / Marquis de Sade