欧宝娱乐

“He was the kind of young man whose handsome face has brought him plenty of success in the past and is now ever-ready for a new encounter, a fresh-experience, always eager to set off into the unknown territory of a little adventure, never taken by surprise because he has worked out everything in advance and is waiting to see what happens, a man who will never overlook any erotic opportunity, whose first glance probes every woman's sensuality, and explores it, without discriminating between his friend's wife and the parlour-maid who opens the door to him. Such men are described with a certain facile contempt as lady-killers, but the term has a nugget of truthful observation in it, for in fact all the passionate instincts of the chase are present in their ceaseless vigilance: the stalking of the prey, the excitement and mental cruelty of the kill. They are constantly on the alert, always ready and willing to follow the trail of an adventure to the very edge of the abyss. They are full of passion all the time, but it is the passion of a gambler rather than a lover, cold, calculating and dangerous. Some are so persistent that their whole lives, long after their youth is spent, are made an eternal adventure by this expectation. Each of their days is resolved into hundreds of small sensual experiences - a look exchanged in passing, a fleeting smile, knees brushing together as a couple sit opposite each other - and the year, in its own turn, dissolves into hundreds of such days in which sensuous experience is the constantly flowing, nourishing, inspiring source of life.”
― Stefan Zweig, The Burning Secret and other stories

“The fragrance of white tea is the feeling of existing in the mists that float over waters; the scent of peony is the scent of the absence of negativity: a lack of confusion, doubt, and darkness; to smell a rose is to teach your soul to skip; a nut and a wood together is a walk over fallen Autumn leaves; the touch of jasmine is a night's dream under the nomad's moon.”
― C. JoyBell C.

“The skin is a variety of contingency: in it, through it, with it, the world and my body touch each other, the feeling and the felt, it defines their common edge. Contingency means common tangency: in it the world and the body intersect and caress each other. I do not wish to call the place in which I live a medium, I prefer to say that things mingle with each other and that I am no exception to that. I mix with the world which mixes with me. Skin intervenes between several things in the world and makes them mingle.”
― Michel Serres, The Five Senses: A Philosophy of Mingled Bodies

“The sensuous person is liquid, flowing, fluid. Each experience, and he becomes it. Seeing a sunset, he is the sunset. Seeing the night, dark night, beautiful silent darkness, he becomes the darkness. In the morning he becomes the light. He is all that life is. He tastes life from every nook and corner, hence he becomes rich. This is real richness. Listening to music he is music, listening to the sound of water he becomes that sound. And when the wind passes through a bamboo grove, and the cracking bamboos, and he is not far away from them: he is amidst them, one of them鈥攈e is a bamboo.”
― Osho, The secret of secrets

“[Ever been kissed?]
Of course--Describe it
--Why?--I want to know if you've
Ever seen Heaven.”
― Jess C. Scott, Instantaneous Insanity: A Collection of 500 Pseudo Haiku

“To be sensuous means to become aware of the circumference, and to be spiritual means to become aware of the center. Sensuousness is the beginning of spirituality. Become more and more sensuous; that is the way of being alive.”
― Osho, The secret of secrets

“The mind provides a person with the mental fortitude to survive any physical or spiritual crisis. For the present time, I am satisfying myself by building a little shop in the back of my mind, a place where stillness resides and a jangle of thoughts can come and visit. I am building a room of my own, a room that I can retreat to when needed, a place where I am always welcomed regardless of the trappings of this ordinary and finite life. I do not need much as far as earthy rewards, but I certainly will not spurn food, drink, companionship, love, affection, friendship, or other physical, emotional, spiritual, aesthetic, and sensuous pleasures that find their way to my humble doorstep.”
― Kilroy J. Oldster, Dead Toad Scrolls

“I found out some time back that it鈥檚 idleness breeds all our virtues, our most bearable qualities 鈥� contemplation, equableness, laziness, letting other people alone, good digestion mental and physical: the wisdom to concentrate on fleshly pleasures 鈥� eating and evacuating and fornication and sitting in the sun 鈥� than which there is nothing better, nothing to match, nothing else in all this world but to live for the short time you are loaned breath, to be alive and know it”
― William Faulkner, The Wild Palms

“One might trouble one's dainty snout with a whiff of the taleggio displayed in an artisanal cheese shop, or take a saucer of jasmine tea and a knuckle of fennel-scented snuff at a counter of buffed Big Nothing granite. But there was a want in these ladies yet, and it was for the rude life of youth.”
― Kevin Barry, City of Bohane

“No matter how dutiful one tried to feel, it was impossible to be sad at leaving this behind, not when the blood ran hot and rich in the veins, and when out in the world there were all the untried beckoning enchantments : dancing, sensuous music, merriment - and love.”
― Anya Seton, Katherine

“One speck of dung will spoil the pot. In order to keep my thoughts on a high level, I put a positive construction on things.”
― Kathleen Rowland

“A fan is like the thighs of a woman: It opens and closes. A good fan opens with a flick of the wrist. It produces its own weather---a breeze not so strong as to muss the hair.”
― Rikki Ducornet, The Fan-Maker's Inquisition: A Novel of the Marquis de Sade

“Have I told you that you are my every dream?"
Her eyes shimmered. Her voice went smoky with emotion. "Not recently.”
― Nancy Gideon, Remembered By Moonlight

“Bella's Christmas Bake Off' always started in early December and for years had prepared me and the rest of the country for the culinary season ahead. Bella basted beautiful, golden turkeys, cooked crispy roast potatoes, baked magnificent cakes and biscuits, causing power surges throughout the country as people turned on their ovens and baked. She would sprinkle lashings of glitter, special olive oils, the latest liqueurs and all in a sea of Christmas champagne bottles.
Bella's style was calm, seductive, and gorgeous. Her very presence on screen made you feel everything was going to be okay and Christmas was on its way. She didn't just stop at delicious food either- her tables were pure art and her Christmas decorations always the prettiest, sparkliest, most beautiful. Bella Bradley had an enviable lifestyle and she kept viewers transfixed all year round, but her Christmases were always special. Her planning and eye for detail was meticulous, from color-matched baubles to snowy landscapes of Christmas cupcakes and mince pies- and soggy bottoms were never on her menu.”
― Sue Watson, Bella's Christmas Bake Off

“Will you be traveling there again? To Istanbul and Arabia and the places where they follow the Koran?"
"I hope so," he said, laying aside the golden book very carefully. "The air is so hot there, warm and fragrant, the sky so blue, and the food tastes like nothing here. They have olives and dates and soft cheeses. I think you would like it, my S茅raphine. You could dress in pink and gold and mahogany and lounge on silken pillows, listening to strange music. I'd buy you a little monkey with a vest and a hat to make you laugh and I'd sit and watch you and feed you juicy grapes."
She smiled sadly and drew off her stays. "And how would we get there, Val?"
"I'd hire a ship," he said taking a sip of his red wine. "No, I'd buy a ship- one of our very own. It'll have blue sails and a flag with a rooster on it. We'll take your mongrel and Mehmed and all his cats and set sail with fifty strong men. During the day we'll sit on deck and watch for mermaids and monsters in the waves, and at night we'll stare at the stars and then I'll make love to you until dawn."
"And after far Arabia?" she whispered as she drew off her chemise and stood nude save for her stockings and shoes. "What then?"
His smile faded and he looked very grave as she took off her shoes and stockings. "Why, S茅raphine, then we would journey on to Egypt or India or China or indeed wherever else you please. Or even come round about here, back to foggy, bustling London, where, if nothing else, the pies and sausages are quite good, if that was what you wished. Just as long as I were with you and you with me, my sweet S茅raphine.”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Duke of Sin

“The way I proposed to you earlier... I'm sorry. It was... disrespectful. Stupid. Since then I've discovered at least a dozen reasons for proposing to you, and beauty is the least of them."
Cassandra stared at him in wonder. "Thank you," she whispered.
The humid air was scented of him... the pine-tar tang of rosin soap... the acrid bite of shirt starch softening from body heat... and the fresh sweat on his skin, salty and intimate, and oddly compelling. She wanted to lean even closer and take a deep breath of him. His face was over hers, a slant of light from a casement window catching the extra green in one eye. She was utterly fascinated by the cool, disciplined fa莽ade overlying something withheld... deeply remote... tantalizing.
What a pity his heart was frozen. What a pity she could never be happy living in his fast-paced, hard-edged world. Because Tom Severin was turning out to be the most attractive and compelling man she'd ever met.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Chasing Cassandra

“His arm and head touching her, warm at their contact spots, she felt her body relax with the weight of his. His weight communicated an exquisite sexuality, oozing like food dye dropped into water, into her every cell. It curlicued its sensuality into her arm with delicate dips and spins, building momentum as it floated through to her core. Filling cell after cell, creating deep yearning in the cells still untouched. The sensation sprinted up her spine. Causing a reflexive twitch to jilt her back, arching it involuntarily forward.”
― Monica Nelson, Rhythm That Surrounds Us: A contemporary law office romance

“Briou thinks of those words of Don Juan in Moli猫re's play: "As for me, beauty embraces me wherever I find it, and I can easily yield to the sweet violence with which it sweeps me along." He imagined it as this: a sweet violence, and himself a new Don Juan.”
― Clare Pollard, The Modern Fairies