Quotes About Thirst

There is no happy land. There is no end to hunger.

We'll find new stuff to want.

Here, said the nuggety bald fixture. You look dry as a camel's cookie.

Want! You must want something. What do you want?

Someone once commented that I have a great thirst for knowledge, to which I replied, what the hell? I'll drink anything.

aching to get back in the game. Was he? Aching

She was the third beer. Not the first one, which the throat receives with almost tearful gratitude; nor the second, that confirms and extends the pleasure of the first. But the third, the one you drink because it's there, because it can't hurt, and because what difference does it make?

To go back to the original hunger was impossible.

Trombone players have a terrible thirst,' he explained. 'You could blow out your soul in a trombone.

They should have killed for water, the men and women of the CWD chawls. People have been known to kill for less: religion; language; the flag; the colour of a person's skin or his caste; breaking the queue at a petrol pump.

I am your fairy tale. Your dream. Your wishes and desires, and I am your thirst and your hunger and your food and your drink.

Flowers scattering - The water we thirst for Far off, in the mist.

Loneliness was an unsatisfied thirst for illusion.

Without a bottle to hold, I feel incomplete, the way Plato says we are each born only half a circle, and we spend out lives seeking out our other half. A drink is my beloved. Without it, I am wanting; I feel half finished.

If I am hungry,reality is nothing more to me than an ensemble of more or less edible things. If I am thirsty, reality is more or less liquid, and more or less potable. If I am sleepy, it is a great bed more or less hard.If I am not hungry, not thirsty, not sleepy, and do not need any other determinate thing, the world is a large ensemble of grays that are I don't know what but that certainly are not made to cheer me up.

as Lucretius wrote: 'our appetite for life is voracious, our thirst for life insatiable

Amar a nossa falta mesma de amor, E na secura nossa, amar a água implícita, E o beijo tácito, e a sede infinita. (To love even our own lack of love, and in our parched state, to love the implicit water, the implied kiss, the infinite thirst.)

I am filled with the thirst of the desert.

What would she have? Coke, said Annie. And when she tasted the familiar drink, how much less scary the world was, and how much less frightening her task.

From that time forward it has been hard for me not to think of literature as created primarily to give writers the drinks they want.

There was plenty for the eye to feast on, but nothing for the soul. He had a hunger for something that no sky could satisfy. Somewhere on the planet there had to be a different kind of light.

Considering the natural lust for power so inherent in man, I fear the thirst of power will prevail to oppress the people.

Sunset found her squatting in the grass, groaning. Every stool was looser than the one before, and smelled fouler. By the time the moon came up, she was shitting brown water. The more she drank the more she shat, but the more she shat, the thirstier she grew.

We had never built, never created, only stolen your garments and lived in your cities and fed ourselves on your life, your vitality, your very blood—but we could create, given a chance, we had it within us to whisper stories of cities of our own. The red thirst has been a curse, has made my race and yours enemies, has robbed my people of all noble aspirations.