I stroke her lightly, memorizing her body. I want her to melt into me, like butter on toast. I want to absorb her and walk around for the rest of my days with her encased in my skin.
– Sara Gruen, Water for Elephants
If I read a book [and] it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me,
I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off,
I know that is poetry. These are the only way I know it. Is there any other way?
– Emily Dickinson, from a letter by Thomas Wentworth Higginson
I was a wall,
and my breasts were like towers;
then I was in his eyes
as one who brings peace.
– Song of Solomon 8:10 (New Revised Standard Version)