386 Quotes About Touch

Warmth is arms; holding "you".

I see, eye see, what my heart feels, soul knows. In flowing sound and glowing scenes, I touch the living dream.

If she could explore and heal his injuries with her fingers, it would be another type of magic, her skin making contact with his. Putting her mind to it, Love would become familiar with his body. She would know him from top to bottom, from beginning to end. Touching this boy would be the death, and life, of her.

The rum transpired from the wound of a perfectly baked cake. By the piercing shining 'touch of crave''Crave for the touch'.

She watches him for hours. She wants to be the sheets that cover his toes. She wants to be the ceiling separating him from the sky: above him, the first thing he sees before and after dreams. She wants to be the open window letting in the light for him.

He holds out a trembling hand and traces the shape of her arm, descending to her elbow. “You’re like mist,” he says. “You really don’t feel this?”Love shakes her head. “No.”But that’s not entirely true, because this illusion of a touch has turned her into a current, this human has reached down to her bones.Then his fingers curl right through her hip, and he lowers his voice. “How ’bout that?

Keep in touch without touching.

It is impossible that every need is basically spatial, that somewhere the image, the touch, and the voice of those who are no longer alive must still exist.

Her touch removed the presiding air, landed on the quiescent surface of his skin, warm touch diffused, and suffused in lakes of his morosity; dyed his every molecule, placing her in his empty spaces, declaring 'meaning' against the very existence.