Visceral Quotes
Quotes tagged as "visceral"
Showing 1-8 of 8

“Era demasiada la atracción que sentÃa por ella, pero estaba acostumbrado a esa demasÃa, y si lo único que quedaba era el amor cálido, en el que primaban la estima y la admiración, sin el amor visceral, el indecoroso, sórdido y animal, él se sentirÃa inferior, el amor puro y altruista también parecerÃa inferior, y la mera bondad lo harÃa menor, y menos interesante y adictivo. No querÃa dejar de sentirse atraÃdo por ella. No era fácil de afrontar, pero hacÃa veintiséis años que no amaba sólo a una mujer. HabÃa amado un cuerpo.”
― So Much for That
― So Much for That

“Many women describe the feeling of having a baby come out of their vagina as taking the biggest shit of their lives. This isn’t really a metaphor. The anal cavity and vaginal canal lean on each other; they, too, are the sex which is not one. Constipation is one of pregnancy’s principal features: the growing baby literally deforms and squeezes the lower intestines, changing the shape, flow, and plausibility of one’s feces. In late pregnancy, I was amazed to find that my shit, when it would finally emerge, had been deformed into Christmas tree ornament â€� type balls. Then, all through my labor, I could not shit at all, as it was keenly clear to me that letting go of the shit would mean the total disintegration of my perineum, anus, and vagina, all at once. I also knew that if, or when, I could let go of the shit, the baby would probably come out. But to do so would mean falling forever, going to pieces.”
― The Argonauts
― The Argonauts

“Gut reaction against yobbery, the masses and solid Frenchness. But an equally visceral distaste for the elite, for castes, culture and the nomenklatura. Do we have to choose between the moronic masses and the arrogant privileged classes (particularly when they have an odour of demagogic humility about them)? No solution.”
― Fragments
― Fragments

“an unbearably tense and disorienting paradox that underscores everyday life in a working-class environment—on the one hand it’s an abrasive and in-your-face world, yet, at the same time, much of it seems extrinsic and is perpetually uninvolving. One is relentlessly overwhelmed and understimulated all at the same time.”
― Checkout 19
― Checkout 19
“Early in her career, Muse engaged her skills for technical purposes, such as document translation and schematic visualizations for government entities. She continued to write and paint poetically, in secret, using her pen name, Muse. An inner compass is evident in her work. Pieces reflect both past and present dilemmas; while showcasing her victories in overcoming these obstacles ~ all from her faith based perspective. Light touches of modernism play hand in hand with old world strokes, offering highly visceral readings.”
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―

“Ladies and gentlemen,â€� the captain said in a low voice that was slow and a little tired. “you have five minutes to withdraw.â€�
The redoubled hooting and shouting drowned out the bugle call that announced the start of the count. No one moved.
“Five minutes have passed,� the captain said in the same tone. “One more minute and we’ll open fire.�
José Arcadio Segundo, sweating ice, lowered the child and gave him to the woman. “Those bastards might just shoot,� she murmured. José Arcadio Segundo did not have time to speak because at that instant he recognized the hoarse voice of Colonel Gavilán echoing the words of the woman with a shout. Intoxicated by the tension, by the miraculous depth of the silence, and furthermore convinced that nothing could move that crowd held tight in a fascination with death, José Arcadio Segundo raised himself up over the heads in front of him and for the first time in his life he raised his voice.
“You bastards!â€� he shouted. “Take the extra minute and stick it up your ass!”
― One Hundred Years of Solitude
The redoubled hooting and shouting drowned out the bugle call that announced the start of the count. No one moved.
“Five minutes have passed,� the captain said in the same tone. “One more minute and we’ll open fire.�
José Arcadio Segundo, sweating ice, lowered the child and gave him to the woman. “Those bastards might just shoot,� she murmured. José Arcadio Segundo did not have time to speak because at that instant he recognized the hoarse voice of Colonel Gavilán echoing the words of the woman with a shout. Intoxicated by the tension, by the miraculous depth of the silence, and furthermore convinced that nothing could move that crowd held tight in a fascination with death, José Arcadio Segundo raised himself up over the heads in front of him and for the first time in his life he raised his voice.
“You bastards!â€� he shouted. “Take the extra minute and stick it up your ass!”
― One Hundred Years of Solitude
“She can feel it scratching at her, her anger, wedged in the space where the two halves of her rib cage meet.”
― You Know You Want This: Cat Person and Other Stories
― You Know You Want This: Cat Person and Other Stories
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