A Quote by Lionel Shriver

Lovers communicate not inside sentences, but between them. Passion lurks within interstice. It is grouting rather than bricks. — © Lionel Shriver
Lovers communicate not inside sentences, but between them. Passion lurks within interstice. It is grouting rather than bricks.
Lovers embrace that which is between them rather than each other.
They'd never been lovers, of course, not in the physical sense. But they'd been lovers as most of us manage, loving through expressions and gestures and the palm set softly upon the bruise at the necessary moment. Lovers by inclination rather than by lust. Lovers, that is, by love.
Learn to follow the quiet voice within that speaks in feelings rather than words; follow what you 'hear' inside, rather than what others may be telling you to do.
Passion lies between one mark and the next, and also within all of them.
We suddenly feel fearful and apprehensive, naked in our perishable flesh, and for just a moment we wish we could go back to being stone—crumbling in death rather than rotting, trapped inside an immobile prison of stone rather than reduced to immaterial souls like those that now rattled within our skulls. The moment passes. There is no point in regretting irreversible decisions—one has to live with them, and we try.
But I'd rather help than watch. I'd rather have a heart than a mind. I'd rather expose too much than too little. I'd rather say hello to strangers than be afraid of them. I would rather know all this about myself than have more money than I need. I'd rather have something to love than a way to impress you.
If you work on a comedy show, your basic form of communication is teasing. That's generally how we speak to each other: you communicate the information between the lines of insulting sentences.
The mysterious does not spell itself out in capital letters, as many writers believe, but is always between, an interstice.
It makes utter sense to stay healthy and strong, to be as nourishing to the body as possible. Yet I would have to agree, there is in many women a 'hungry' one inside. But rather than hungry to be a certain size, shape, or height, rather than hungry to fit the stereotype; women are hungry for basic regard from the culture surrounding them. The 'hungry' one inside is longing to be treated respectfully, to be accepted and in the very least, to be met without stereotyping.
She supposed that houses, after all - like the lives that were lived in them - were mostly made of space. It was the spaces, in fact, which counted, rather than the bricks.
Words are not thoughts, just like bricks are not homes. But houses are made with bricks. If you have less bricks, you will make a small house. The more words you have, the clearer your thoughts, and the more clearly you can convey them.
Few of them were to be trusted within reach of a trowel and a pile of bricks.
The agony of lovers burns with the fire of passion. Lovers leave traces of where they've been. The wailing of broken hearts is the doorway to God.
Writers dream of sentences that sail through the waters of thought. We try to control their shape and size, and we struggle to let them glide, rather than thrash at sea.
The Spirit lurks within the Flesh Like Tides within the Sea That make the Water live, estranged What would the Either be?
Actors who are lovers in real life are often incapable if playing the part of lovers to an audience. It is equally true that sympathy between actors who are not lovers may create a temporary emotion that is perfectly sincere.
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