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“I feared if I spoke I would no longer be happy, or would be so in a way that I did not want to be, and so I surrendered myself body and soul to the joy that was inundating my whole being and that I could see was mutual. My happiness so overwhelmed my senses that it reached the point where nature, drowning in supreme pleasure, exhausts itself. For the space of a minute I remained motionless, in intellectual contemplation and adoration of my own apotheosis. Sight and touch, which I had thought must be the main characters in this drama, played only secondary roles. My eyes desired no greater happiness than to remain fixed on the face of the creature charming them, while my touch, limited to my fingertips, feared to move, since it could conceive of no greater sensation.”

Quote by Casanova

Book:The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt 1725 - 1798
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The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt 1725 - 1798

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Casanova

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“He leaned back on his hands. And then idly turned to her. She inhaled, and exhaled an almost long-suffering sigh. And he began in a patient, almost leisurely fashion, in a voice fashioned from dark velvet, a voice that stroked over her senses until they were lulled, to lecture directly to her as if she was a girl in the schoolroom. "A proper kiss, Miss Eversea, should turn you inside out. It should... touch places in you that you didn't know existed, set them ablaze, until your entire being is hungry and wild. It should... hold a moment, I want to explain this as clearly as possible..." He tipped his head back and paused to consider, as though he were envisioning this and wanted to relate every detail correctly. "It should slice right down through you like a cutlass with a pleasure so devastating it's very nearly pain." He waited, watching her face, allowing her to accommodate the potent words. Her mouth was parted. Her breathing short. She couldn't look away. His eyes and voice held her as fast as if he'd cradled her face with his hands. And as he said them, an echo of sensation sounded in her, like a remembered dream, an instinct awakened. She thought about Mars getting ready to give Venus a good pleasuring. Stop, she should say. "And...?" she whispered. "It should make you do battle for control of your senses and your will. It should make you want to do things you'd never dreamed you'd want to do, and in that moment all of those things will make perfect sense. And it should herald, or at least promise, the most intense physical pleasure you've ever known, regardless of whether that promise is ever, ever fulfilled. It should, in fact..." he paused for effect "haunt you for the rest of your life." She sat wordlessly when he was done. As though waiting for the last notes of a stormy, discordant symphony to echo into silence. 'The most intense physical pleasure.' His words reverberated in her. As if her body contained the ancient wisdom of what that meant, and now, having been reminded, craved it.”

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Book:The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck: A Counterintuitive Approach to Living a Good Life
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