Quotes by Chloe Thurlow

Between the lines of every book the writer reveals their own secrets.

Time neither flies nor sleeps. It is flexible, plastic, ever changing. Spend two hours watching a movie curled up with your lover and time ceases to exist. Spend two hours waiting for your lover to come and time is the iron bars of a prison

When you lose yourself in a book the hours grow wings and fly.

Beautiful girls are not a decoration, arm candy, an object. They are, whether they know it or not, the very essence of our humanity.

Beautiful girls – the true beauties – are rarely vain, arrogant, poseurs. It is the girl who makes disproportionate efforts with makeup, clothes, heels and hair who suffers these conceits. They are girls who have made themselves appear beautiful without ever reaching the exalted status of being beautiful girls.

What constitutes a beautiful girl? It is not merely an anatomical or aesthetic quality. Beautiful girls have an inner beauty, an inner light that defeats the darkness. It is a way of walking, smiling, of being. They have a certain smell, sweet as baby breath. They radiate good will, kindness, selflessness.

A beautiful woman is like a painting and remains beautiful no matter how old she is.

I am made of words. Cut me & I bleed sentences. Read me, & I speak to your soul.

All good art is political. Between the lines of every book, the author implants messages for the unsuspecting reader. If not, what point does it serve?

One passion leads to another. Its passion that makes the wheels of life turn, passion for work, passion for pleasure, passion for passion.

If you add the shadow of death to a moment of passion you are in that instant free of all normal ties, your mind grows still and your body enters a state of non-being.

Sex spelled backwards is excess and thats how it should always be.

Sex is a three letter word even the worst speller in the world can spell.

Sex exists in the now without past or future. If, for a single second, your minds drifts back to the past or forwards into the unknown, the moment withers like a dead plant and the passage of pleasure turns to a road of dust.

When you remove love from sex you enter a mansion with many rooms shaded in nuance and excess, an invitation to peel away all conventions and programming. A chance to explore your hidden self. You shed something and clothe yourself in something else. Sex is the greatest of gifts. Orgasm a glimpse of perfection.

After making love there is nothing like making love, slowly, idly, like walking without a destination, or swimming in a warm sea.

The quest of the alchemists to turn lead into gold is a metaphor for our attempts to turn the base metal of ourselves, that person hooked on consumerism, filled with angst and ambition, into the gold of what we can be and really are.

Destiny is desire meeting opportunity. You become who you are driven to be.

We make our own destiny, not because we can see the road ahead, but because we cannot see the road ahead. It is the road, the motion, the forward movement, that takes us to ourselves.

If you are open to change and welcome surprise, you know the secret of creativity and the secret of life.