lascivious quotes, aphorisms, statements, say
Mr. Show Senator Howell Tankerbell (Bob): I've got a naked puppet doin' a lewd, lascivious Fandango on the lap of a full-grown man! I got a fella over here, he's churnin' butter. A lady over here dippin' candles...it's like a pioneer porn shop in here! Close 'em down, boys!
Man and Superman by George Bernard Shaw Your friends are all the dullest dogs I know. They are not beautiful: they are only decorated. They are not clean: they are only shaved and starched. They are not dignified: they are only fashionably dressed. They are not educated they are only college passmen. They are not religious: they are only pewrenters. They are not moral: they are only conventional. They are not virtuous: they are only cowardly. They are not even vicious: they are only "frail." They are not artistic: they are only lascivious. They are not prosperous: they are only rich. They are not loyal, they are only servile; not dutiful, only sheepish; not public spirited, only patriotic; not courageous, only quarrelsome; not determined, only obstinate; not masterful, only domineering; not self-controlled, only obtuse; not self-respecting, only vain; not kind, only sentimental; not social, only gregarious; not considerate, only polite; not intelligent, only opinionated; not progressive, only factious; not imaginative, only superstitious; not just,
JAG Dr. Donald "Ducky" Mallard: You sure you won't have dinner with me tonight, Viv?
NCIS Special Agent Vivian Blackadder: Oh, Ducky, you're disgusting!
Dr. Donald "Ducky" Mallard: The pursuit of sex is an affirmation of life, Vivian. That's why older men are so lascivious.
NCIS Special Agent Vivian Blackadder: I'm talking about your lack of respect for the dead.
Dr. Donald "Ducky" Mallard: I have the utmost respect for the dead.
NCIS Special Agent Vivian Blackadder: Well, that's obvious from the way you speak to them.
Dr. Donald "Ducky" Mallard: If you were dead, wouldn't it be nice if you were spoken to, rather than about?
Richard III by William Shakespeare Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this son of York;
And all the clouds, that lour'd upon our house,
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And now, — instead of mounting barbed steeds,
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,—
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I, — that am not shap'd for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty,
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable,
That dogs bark at me, as I halt by them,—
Why, I, in t