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“It would be perfect if everyone who makes love, is in love, but this is simply an unrealistic expectation. I'd say 75 percent of the population of people who make love, are not in love, this is simply the reality of the human race, and to be idealistic about this is to wait for the stars to aline and Jupiter to change color; for the Heavens to etch your names together in the sky before you make love to someone. But idealism is immaturity, and as a matter of fact, the stars may never aline, Jupiter may never change color, and the Heavens may never ever etch your names together in the sky for you to have the never-ending permission to make endless love to one another. And so the bottom line is, there really is no difference between doing something today, and doing something tomorrow, because today is what you have, and tomorrow may not turn out the way you expect it to. At the end of the day, sex is an animalistic, humanistic, passionate desire.”
― C. JoyBell C.

“It is only natural, of course, that each man should think his own opinions best: the crow loves his fledgling, and the ape his cub.”
― Thomas More, Utopia

“Sometimes you want to stay with someone, not only because it's magic and it's promising and it feels like home; but sometimes you find someone and you want to stay with him (or her)—because you're the same kind of animal.”
― C. JoyBell C.

“Going somewhere?â€� Tamlin asked. His voice was not entirely of this world.
I suppressed a shudder. “Midnight snack,� I said, and I was keenly aware of every movement, every breath I took as I neared him.
His bare chest was painted with whorls of dark blue woad, and from the smudges in the paint, I knew exactly where he’d been touched. I tried not to notice that they descended past his muscled midriff.
I was about to pass him when he grabbed me, so fast that I didn’t see anything until he had me pinned against the wall. The cookie dropped from my hand as he grasped my wrists. “I smelled you,� he breathed, his painted chest rising and falling so close to mine. “I searched for you, and you weren’t there.�
He reeked of magic. When I looked into his eyes, remnants of power flickered there. No kindness, none of the wry humor and gentle reprimands. The Tamlin I knew was gone.
“Let go,� I said as evenly as I could, but his claws punched out, imbedding in the wood above my hands. Still riding the magic, he was half-wild.
“You drove me mad,� he growled, and the sound trembled down my neck, along my breasts until they ached. “I searched for you, and you weren’t there. When I didn’t find you,� he said, bringing his face closer to mine, until we shared breath, “it made me pick another.�
I couldn’t escape. I wasn’t entirely sure that I wanted to.
“She asked me not to be gentle with her, either,� he snarled, his teeth bright in the moonlight. He brought his lips to my ear. “I would have been gentle with you, though.� I shuddered as I closed my eyes. Every inch of my body went taut as his words echoed through me. “I would have had you moaning my name throughout it all. And I would have taken a very, very long time, Feyre.� He said my name like a caress, and his hot breath tickled my ear. My back arched slightly.
He ripped his claws free from the wall, and my knees buckled as he let go. I grasped the wall to keep from sinking to the floor, to keep from grabbing him—to strike or caress, I didn’t know. I opened my eyes. He still smiled—smiled like an animal.
“Why should I want someone’s leftovers?� I said, making to push him away. He grabbed my hands again and bit my neck.
I cried out as his teeth clamped onto the tender spot where my neck met my shoulder. I couldn’t move—couldn’t think, and my world narrowed to the feeling of his lips and teeth against my skin. He didn’t pierce my flesh, but rather bit to keep me pinned. The push of his body against mine, the hard and the soft, made me see red—see lightning, made me grind my hips against his. I should hate him—hate him for his stupid ritual, for the female he’d been with tonight �
His bite lightened, and his tongue caressed the places his teeth had been. He didn’t move—he just remained in that spot, kissing my neck. Intently, territorially, lazily. Heat pounded between my legs, and as he ground his body against me, against every aching spot, a moan slipped past my lips.
He jerked away. The air was bitingly cold against my freed skin, and I panted as he stared at me. “Don’t ever disobey me again,â€� he said, his voice a deep purr that ricocheted through me, awakening everything and lulling it into complicity.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“Even a wolf knows how to be polite when animalistic humans have no clue about politeness”
― Munia Khan

“Pain, Victor had learned, turned people into animals.”
― V.E. Schwab, Vengeful

“Murderous, mutual loathing between tribes was no more explicable, or complicated, then the genocidal urges of chimpanzees—a fact of nature that we humans, vainly and disingenuously, pretend our codes of civilization transcend.”
― Alan Weisman, The World Without Us

“How dirty she was, how thin, what a wild look she had! I have never seen a wilder-looking creature. Her eyes were bright. They were like the eyes of a wild animal.”
― Sherwood Anderson, Death in the Woods and Other Stories

“When what one does, reps, or 'spits', repetitively, is foul or beastly - one summons spiritual undertakers to dine on fleshly parasites. In various forms, nature's law purges all that becomes wasteful. Change your game, or the game will change you.”
― T.F. Hodge, From Within I Rise: Spiritual Triumph over Death and Conscious Encounters With the Divine Presence

“he walks into the bedroom like he owns it. says, “i wanna be filthy with you.â€� takes me down hungry. helps me shed my skin. cafuné. he looked at me like i wasn’t something ruined. filled my vicious parts with gold. touched me with too much yearning. he said, “i’d burn for you.â€� how can he not see we’re the creators of the fire? he growled, “moan for me.â€� the wolf bit down and i howled into the night.”
― Taylor Rhodes, calloused: a field journal

“Sure they're animals. You think you just found out a new principle? Sometimes I wonder just how naive you really are. The French lords and ladies used to screw after the guillotinings. The old Romans used to stuff each other during the gladiatorial matches. That's entertainment, Garraty. It's nothing new.”
― Richard Bachman, The Long Walk

“Don't restrain yourself to mundaneness. You're subject to consciousness that makes you more than animalistic.”
― T.F. Hodge, From Within I Rise: Spiritual Triumph over Death and Conscious Encounters With the Divine Presence

“He rises off the bed and tries to speak, but cannot stop the pain in his throat, and cannot articulate a word, capable only of an animal sound, a strangulated wheeze that shocks him deeply, enraging him, this sudden loss of the faculty of speech that feels somehow bestial and low.”
― Emma Richler, Be My Wolff

“She became extremely aggressive and almost animalistic. It was as if she reverted to a savage state with only one instinct... to attack the uninfected.”
― Jason Medina, The Manhattanville Incident: An Undead Novel

“They heard loud, incoherent, animalistic, screaming and knew what it meant. The infected were near.”
― Jason Medina, The Manhattanville Incident: An Undead Novel

“But I was even more surprised when he stuck around with me and smiled a full, toothy, letter-D-shaped movie star grin.
The magazines said he was only twenty-eight, which was young for an executive chef but felt old to me. He looked like a man. Even when Elliott turned twenty-eight, I doubted he would look as manly as Pascal. Somehow, in the supermarket lighting, Pascal seemed hotter- more capable and more real. In restaurants, he blended in with the scenery of the meal. But here, holding his basket just like everyone else, looking at the discounted produce, getting lost in the aisles, his presence became even more magical, as if I were seeing a beautiful, powerful animal in the wild instead of at the zoo.”
― Jessica Tom, Food Whore

“It was a wild, animalistic compulsion, an urgent need to have his insights and emotions fly from his heart and onto a page, or a screen, or shadows on a rock.”
― Nick Oliveri, The Conjurer

“I want some beefy guy to take control and give an animalistic panty-melding tingle so I can shut my brain off and have fun for a change.”
― Kyra Keys, Halloween Mating