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The garter belt was torn, and it hung like a pretty kerchief on the gleaming flesh of my belly. The stockings were badly laddered, like those of a chorus girl in a cheap vaudeville.

— Alexander Trocchi Helen and Desire (1954)

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More quotes by Alexander Trocchi

She stood stark naked, as palely and supremely beautiful as a lily, her small silky mound like a soft paintbrush, wettened with ink.

Helen and Desire (1954)

He . . . opened her thighs like a bible.

Helen and Desire (1954)

I opened my thighs like a book.

Helen and Desire (1954)

All great art, and today all great artlessness, must appear extreme to the mass of men, as we know them today. It springs from the anguish of great souls. From the souls of men not formed, but deformed in factories whose inspiration is pelf.

Cain's Book (1960)

She ignored the ebullient purpose of her loins, the feverish volcano which, set like a second and less modest mouth at the junction of her sweltering thighs, rubbed itself voluptuously like a cat against my thigh.

Helen and Desire (1954)

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