Sorcha

“Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? Up on a pedestal or down on your knees, it's all a male fantasy: that you're strong enough to take what they dish out, or else too weak to do anything about it. Even pretending you aren't catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you're unseen, pretending you have a life of your own, that you can wash your feet and comb your hair unconscious of the ever-present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur.”
― Margaret Atwood, The Robber Bride

“Je faseyais comme une voil mal remplie, j'avais besoin d'elle, sa présence me brassait le sang dans les veines. Elle avait les yeux d'un bleu d'orage, d'un bleu si dense que je l'imaginais, pleurant, faire des trous dans le ciel avec son mouchoir. Mais sa bouche, plus encore, me décramponnait, une bouche de vin hors d'âge, hors de portée, à boire fou, et debout.”
― Alain Damasio, La Horde du Contrevent

“-believed in carnal love. To us, a book's words were holy, but the paper, cloth, cardboard, glue, thread, and ink that contained them were a mere vessel, and it was no sacrilege to treat them as wantonly as desire and pragmatism dictated. Hard use was a sign not of disrespect but of intimacy.”
― Anne Fadiman, Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader