Marni Mann Quotes

When I tie you up and lick every inch of your body, things like whether I'm wearing flannel or a ten thousand dollar suit aren't going to matter. You won't be aware of anything other than my tongue. I promise.

I noticed the hunger in his eyes, how they watched me as though he wanted to seize and devour me.

Don't judge me just because I needed a break. We can't all be Saints…

Nicole," she yelled, and I turned around. "Is it hard? You know, not being on the needle anymore?" "It's harder than being on the needle.

I wasn't a prostitute; I was an artist who used her fingers to paint a fantasy that her body fulfilled. And when I was desired by men, I felt the most creative.

Our soulmate is revealed only once during our life. Maybe it's a glimpse of a stranger. Maybe it's our best friend. The timing may not always be right. But, when they're shown to us, we know it's them. Then, life happens. We grow. We age. We develop scars. And we remember that glimpse. Some are lucky enough to spend the rest of their lives with that person. Some, like me, have only memories.

I was the mess who didn't know how to get her head back on straight after her whole life had been turned upside-down.

Maybe I should stare at the sky more often. Maybe I should enjoy the night air instead of shielding myself from it from. Rather than letting the never-ending blackness overwhelm me, maybe I should appreciate it for what it is: a background for the brilliance of stars. After all, without darkness, there can't be light.

A little pain was always involved in our intimacy; it heightened my passion. But I knew this was more than him just giving me pleasure. He was reminding me that my body was his. I responded, arching my back, giving him full access to whatever he wanted to pleasure…or hurt.

We were two broken souls that had found each other amidst a palette of bold, beautiful hues. But our filling wasn't made of those colors, we didn't live among those stains and we didn't follow their patterns. Our reflection was made of scandalous secrets and dark, dusty shadows that recoiled when we hit the light. Not just any shadows or secrets, but seductive ones.

I had witnessed his pain in motion; the way he had stroked over the sea fueled by something so similar to what fueled me. The agony he couldn't hide from his caramel-colored eyes. I was drawn to whatever was broken in him, probably in the same way that he was drawn to what was broken in me.

There was a time in my life⎯not too long ago⎯when I was trapped. Pulled beneath the waves, into the hole I had climbed into. It was a dark, damaging place. That ink reminds me of how I never want to visit there again.

He got me to beg, even when begging was so out of character; he made me want more of him, even when I didn't think my body could take it.
He freed me, from the inside out.