The body is an instrument which only gives off music when it is used as a body. Always an orchestra, and just as music traverses walls, so sensuality traverses the body and reaches up to ecstasy.
Today, fashion is really about sensuality-how a woman feels on the inside. In the '80s women used suits with exaggerated shoulders and waists to make a strong impression. Women are now more comfortable with themselves and their bodies-they no longer feel the need to hide behind their clothes.
We are all sculptors and painters, and our material is our own flesh and blood and bone.
My definition of beauty is simplicity, elegance, and sensuality. I think that when a woman is in harmony with herself and remains true to her values, she will glow naturally.
Sometimes we have to step out of our comfort zones. We have to break the rules. And we have to discover the sensuality of fear. We need to face it, challenge it, dance with it.
If any thing is sacred, the human body is sacred.
Sensuality without love is a sin; love without sensuality is worse than a sin.
Intellectual passion drives out sensuality.
Sexuality and sensuality are completely different things. Sensuality is something that you're born with. But sexuality is something I leave for my own mirror.
How much more sensuality invites to art than does sentimentality.
To be sensual, I think, is to respect and rejoice in the force of life, of life itself, and to be present in all that one does, from the effort of loving to the breaking of bread.
Sensuality is the total mobilization of the senses: an individual observes his partner intently, straining to catch every sound.
I think sensuality is a part of me. It's not all of me, but it's a part of who I am.
I am acquainted with no immaterial sensuality so delightful as good acting.
The delights of sight and hearing and touch will bear thy delight.
I have beauty, intelligence, individuality, sensuality and sexuality.
I think that women find their strength and power in their sexuality, in their sensuality within, [through] getting older and being secure within that.
Sensuality not only debases both body and mind, but dulls the keen edge of pleasure.
Sensual pleasures are like soap bubbles, sparkling, effervescent. The pleasures of intellect are calm, beautiful, sublime, ever enduring and climbing upward to the borders of the unseen world.
But I lie. I embellish. My words are not deep enough. They disguise, they conceal. I will not rest until I have told of my descent into a sensuality which was as dark, as magnificent, as wild, as my moments of mystic creation have been dazzling, ecstatic, exalted.
The body is an instrument which only gives off music when it is used as a body.
My attitude is always one of sensuality, aggressive enthusiasm and a kind of outrageousness in my expression.
Intellectual passion dries out sensuality.
The body of a sensualist is the coffin of a dead soul.
Sin is the mother, and shame the daughter of lewdness.
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