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I touch your mouth, I touch the edge of your mouth with my finger, I am drawing it as if it were something my hand was sketching, as if for the first time your mouth opened a little, and all I have to do is close my eyes to erase it and start all over again, every time I can make the mouth I want appear, the mouth which my hand chooses and sketches on your face, and which by some chance that I do not seek to understand coincides exactly with your mouth which smiles beneath the one my hand is sketching on you.
--
Chapter 7

 

Julio Cortazar

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Speaking about pax in the proto-Christan epoch turned out to be a delicate matter, because around the year 300 pax became a key word in the Christian liturgy. It became the euphemism for a mouth-to-mouth kiss among the faithful attending services; pax became the camouflage for the osculum (from os, mouth), or the conspiratio, a commingling of breaths.

 

Ivan Illich

 

A man’s face as a rule says more, and more interesting things, than his mouth, for it is a compendium of everything his mouth will ever say, in that it is the monogram of all this man’s thoughts and aspirations.

 

Arthur Schopenhauer

 

When Andranik went away... I saw that tears were in his eyes and his mouth was twisting with agony like the mouth of a small boy who is in great pain but will not let himself cry.

 

William Saroyan

 

"The Brahmins are a dynasty and a caste. Brahma is the sun and its rays Brahmins. The Brahmans left the mouth of God as the purest of their verbs, and the Sudras were born from the feet, as the vilest dust. It is not for the sudra or touch the outcast Brahmins, is not given as the roots touch the flowers, or the sole of the foot touching the mouth. The hands that touch the outcast Brahmin in print in him the indelible stamp of hell, the purity of the Brahmin is like the dew drop on the sheet, which only disappears forever when you touch him."

 

Francisco Luis Gomes

 

The man sat watching the road, the weedstem twirling in his mouth and the threadthin shadow of it going long and short upon his face like a sundial's hand beneath a sun berserk.

 

Cormac McCarthy