"In the man whose childhood has known caresses and kindness, there is always a fiber of memory that can be touched to gentle issues."

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I don't hear your words: your voice reverberates against my body like another kind of caress, another kind of penetration. I have no power over your voice. It comes straight from you into me. I could stuff my ears and it would find its way into my blood and make it rise.

— Anais Nin