I like flesh. I do! Something to hold.

“What? I like flesh. I’m a werewolf. It’s not like I’m going to be a vegetarian.”

— Chessela Helm

Like a tongue on frozen steel, like flesh in flame —

— Anonymous

I ain't no veggie, like my flesh to the bone, alive and licking on your ice cream cone.

— Alice Cooper

“Is that why you've been pushing me away? Because of how you look? [...] I waited for you my whole life. Yearned for you…

— Anne Bishop

“Ever felt like you are more than flesh and bones and blood that decay back into cosmic dirt? You are. Your existence did not…

— Toni Sorenson

“Unlike man, whose gods are of the unseen and the overguessed, vapours and mists of fancy eluding the garmenture of reality, wandering wraiths of…

— Jack London

“Bones are patient. Bones never tire nor do they run away. When you come upon a man who has been dead many years, his…

— Tom Robbins

“Or I would help Rita make the bread, sinking my hands into that soft resistant warmth which is so much like flesh. I hunger…

— Margaret Atwood

“It didn’t break the trance. She wasn’t sure that anything could, and briefly wondered if they’d stay like this until flesh rotted away from…

— Ashton Morgan

Like many other scientists who hold the Catholic faith, I see the Creator's plan and purpose fulfilled in our universe. I see a planet…

— Kenneth R. Miller

If Jesus is the Son of God in human flesh, He's one of a kind of the 13 billions of people who have ever lived.

— Tim LaHaye

It's still possible to savor the remarkable foods that millennia of human ingenuity have teased from milk. A sip of milk itself or a…

— Harold McGee

Surely, God could have caused birds to fly with their bones made of solid gold, with their veins full of quicksilver, with their flesh…

— Galileo Galilei

The nineteenth century lynching mob cuts off ears, toes, and fingers, strips off flesh, and distributes portions of the body as souvenirs among the…

— Ida B. Wells

A poet is wounded into speech, and he examines these wounds, meticulously, to discover how to heal them. The bad poet harangues at the…

— Samuel R. Delany