any small quotes about blood, flesh, or eating people?
"…I loved blood since I had tasted yours."
— Marguerite Duras, from ‘Hiroshima Mon Amour’, tr. Richard Seaver
"I beg you, eat me up. Want me down to the marrow."
— Hélène Cixous, Stigmata: Escaping Texts; from ‘Love of the Wolf’, tr. Keith Cohen
"What a man. You could drink his blood."
— Linda Gates on Ted Hughes, quoted in ‘Red Comet; The Short Life and Blazing Art of Sylvia Plath’ by Heather Clarke
"She feels savage, she could eat a heart."
— Margaret Atwood, from ‘Life Before Man’
"He is part of me now. We cannot go back. He is in my bones; in my blood."
— Katherine Clements, from ’The Coffin Path’
"You’ll think it’s love, while he dines on your heart. And maybe it will be. But he’s so hungry, he’ll eat you all in one sitting, and you’ll be in his belly, and what will you do then? Hear me say it, because I know. I ate all of my husbands."
— Catherynne M. Valente, from ‘Deathless’
"How they’d loved to cut themselves on each other, taste their own blood."
— Margaret Atwood, from ‘The Blind Assassin’
"For us, eating and being eaten belong to the terrible secret of love."
— Hélène Cixous, Stigmata: Escaping Texts; from ‘Love of the Wolf’, tr. Keith Cohen
"I drink your blood / and I split your heart."
— Olga Orozco, Torn: Engravings of Insomnia; from 'To Destroy The Enemy'
"She bit him she gnawed him she sucked / She wanted him complete inside her"
— Ted Hughes, Crow; from ‘Lovesong’
“There’s blood between us, love, my love,”
— Christina Rossetti, Poems; from 'The Convent Threshold'
"...I could be a wolf for you. I could put my teeth on your throat. I could growl. I could eat you whole."
— Catherynne M. Valente, The Bread We Eat in Dreams; from 'The Red Girl'
"I want / to mix your name with stars / with blood / to be inside, you"
— Halina Poświatowska, from ‘Indeed I love’, tr. Maya Peretz
"Simone Weil says that when you really love you are able to look at / someone you want to eat and not eat them."
— Marie Howe, The Kingdom of Ordinary Time; from 'After the Movie'
"Know this: / I live beast days. I am a water hour. / At night my eyelids droop like forest and sky. / My love knows few words: / I like it in your blood."
— Gottfried Benn, ‘Threat’ tr. Michael Hofmann
"Please," she said, "you're so beautiful. You may eat me if you like. I'd sooner be eaten by you than fed by anyone else."
— C. S. Lewis, from 'The Horse and His Boy'
"I thought I breathed the perfume in your blood."
— Charles Baudelaire, The Flowers of Evil; from 'The Balcony', tr. William Aggeler
"Love is when you suddenly wake up as a cannibal, and not just any old cannibal, or else wake up destined for devourment."
— Hélène Cixous, Stigmata: Escaping Texts; from ‘Love of the Wolf’, tr. Keith Cohen
"if I’ve dreamt or thought you / a pack of blood fresh-drawn / hanging darkred from a hook / higher than my heart"
— Adrienne Rich, Fox: Poems 1998-2000; from ‘For This’
"Give me a pot and let me turn cannibal. I will feast on her with greater delight than he. If she is his titbit then I will gourmet her. Come here and discover what it is to be spiced, racked and savoured. I will eat her slowly to make her last longer. Whatever he has done I will do. Did he eat her? Then so will I. And spit her out."
— Jeanette Winterson, from ‘Gut Symmetries’
"He bit her shoulder / & entered her blood forever."
— Erica Jong, How to Save Your Own Life; from 'The Puzzle'
"She will step across the stage, words coiled, she will open her mouth and the room will explode in blood."
— Margaret Atwood, Dancing Girls and Other Stories; from 'Lives of the Poets'
"Here's a gnawed bone, / it's my own, / I took it out of my arm, / Here's my heart, in a little pile of vomit."
— Margaret Atwood, The Door; from 'String Tail'
"…he ate my heart in half / and I was glad."
— Anne Sexton, The Book of Folly; from 'The Death of the Fathers'
"There is a good look that I wear / like a blood clot. I have / sewn it over my left breast."
— Anne Sexton, Love Poems; from 'Again and Again and Again'
"Suddenly she was eager for his eyes, to bite into them; to gnaw his cheek."
— Toni Morrison, from 'Beloved'
"Now you are at the place of annihilation, now you are at the place of annihilation. She turns her head away from the blue beams of his eyes; she knows no other consummation than the only one she can offer him. She has not eaten for three days. It is dinner-time. It is bed-time."
— Angela Carter, The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories; from 'The Lady of the House of Love'
"Like the woman / who watered her roses with blood"
— Erica Jong, At the Edge of the Body; from 'Blood and Honey'
"You know, in bed he smells like a butcher."
— Assia Wevill referring to Ted Hughes, from ‘A Lover of Unreason: The Life and Tragic Death of Assia Wevill’ by Yehuda Koren and Eilat Negev
"...I want to swallow you, have you melt into me and flow through my veins."
— Han Kang, from 'The Vegetarian', tr. Deborah Smith
"—O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the market-place."
— William Shakespeare, from 'Much Ado About Nothing'
"Long flaps and shreds of flesh rip off the woman’s body and lift / and blow away on the wind, leaving // an exposed column of nerve and blood and muscle / calling mutely through lipless mouth."
— Anne Carson, from 'The Glass Essay'
"Then came the blood – so ravishing it made him feel like a god."
— Georg Heym, Tales of the German Imagination; from 'The Lunatic', tr. Peter Wortsman
"Bring me her heart, she said to the hunter, / and I will salt it and eat it."
— Anne Sexton, Transformations; from 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs'
"Someone has replaced your heart with raw meat. / That delicacy. I'm working on a trick / where I come across sated. / Where I don't remember how to be ravenous."
— Caitlin Bailey, Solve for Desire; from 'Incantare'
"Sees herself biting his hand, his arm, how everything in her head has gone black, sees his hand black as though scorched or full of ashes, sees his black arm as she sinks her teeth into it, keeps her eyes shut tight, sees his black look, sleeps with him in hell, would like to butcher him and eat him, she sees his red flesh lying there like velvet."
— Jenny Erpenbeck, Kairos, tr. Michael Hofmann
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