If I thought this would never happen again I would die. But this is wrong, nobody dies from lack of sex. It's lack of love we die from.

But this is wrong, nobody dies from lack of sex. It's lack of love we die from.

Nobody dies from the lack of sex. It's lack of love we die from.

To die for lack of love is horrible. The asphyxia of the soul.

Somebody,' said Jacques, 'your father or mine, should have told us that not many people have ever died of love. But multitudes have perished, and are perishing every hour — and in the oddest places! — for the lack of it.

They say love dies between two people. That's wrong. It doesn't die. It just leaves you, goes away, if you are not good enough, worthy enough. It doesn't die; you're the one that dies.

They say love dies between two people. That’s wrong. It doesn’t die. It just leaves you, goes away, if you aren’t good enough, worthy enough. It doesn’t die; you’re the the one that dies. It’s like the ocean: if you’re no good, if you begin to make a bad smell in it, it just spews you up somewhere to die. You die anyway, but I had rather drown in the ocean than be urped up onto a strip of dead beach and be dried away by the sun into a little foul smear with no name to it, just this was for an epitaph

"Somebody," said Jacques, "your father or mine, should have told us that not many people have ever died of love. But multitudes have perished, and are perishing every hour — and in the oddest places! — for the lack of it."

If we lose love and self respect for each other,this is how we finally die

Sex and death. Two things that come but once in my lifetime, but at least after death you're not nauseous.

I told you once how I believe it isn't love that dies, it's the man and the woman, something in the man and the woman that dies, doesn't deserve the chance any more to love.

Sex doesn't last.

You die a little inside every time you have joyless sex. Neurons prune back. The good in there withers. And some things never grow back.

Without love, we're dead.