Our own physical body possesses a wisdom which we who inhabit the body lack. We give it orders which make no sense.

What we feel and think and are is to a great extent determined by the state of our ductless glands and viscera.

It is so much more difficult to live with one's body than with one's soul. One's body is so much more exacting: what it won't have it won't have, and nothing can make bitter into sweet.

For male and female alike, the bodies of the other sex are messages signaling what we must do -- they are glowing signifiers of our own necessities.

Man is a mind betrayed, not served, by his organs.

The body is an instrument, the mind its function, the witness and reward of its operation.

Who has not felt the beauty of a woman's arm? The unspeakable suggestions of tenderness that lie in the dimpled elbow, and all the varied gently-lessening curves, down to the delicate wrist, with its tiniest, almost imperceptible nicks in the firm softness.

The only bodily organ which is really regarded as inferior is the atrophied penis, a girl's clitoris.

What was my body to me? A kind of flunkey in my service. Let but my anger wax hot, my love grow exalted, my hatred collect in me, and that boasted solidarity between me and my body was gone.

Man consists of two parts, his mind and his body, only the body has more fun.