Unbearable Lightness.

"She hated that distance. She wanted to merge with him. That is why, looking him straight in the eye, she insisted she had not had an orgasm even though the rug was fairly dripping with it. "It's not sensual pleasure I'm after," she would say, "it's happiness. And pleasure without happiness is not pleasure." In other words, she was pounding on the gate of his poetic memory. But the gate was shut. There was no room for her in his poetic memory. There was room for her only on the rug."