Quotes About Hunger

le corps a faim [...] du battement d'un autre coeur pour régler le rythme du sien.

There's a monster that comes out of me in the ring. I think it goes back to the days when I had nothing. It's hunger. I think that's what the monster is and it's still there.

la guerra era una forma derrochadora y brutal de combatir la presión demográfica. Pero a falta de anticonceptivos eficaces o de posibilidades de abortar bajo control médico, la alternativa era también derrochadora y brutal: subalimentación, hambre, enfermedades y una vida breve, pobre y mezquina para todo el mundo.

You do realize that you are a termite. You are eating through my soul.

Death by starvation is slow.

There was the enormous disparity of wealth between rich and poor, the squalid living conditions for most of the population, and probably for much of the time, even if not starvation, then persistent hunger.

Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety. Other women cloy the appetites they feed, but she makes hungry where most she satisfies.

No man can worship God or love his neighbor on an empty stomach.

If our greatest hungers were to be granted as easily as our bodily needs, we certainly would never be able to achieve the noble feelings of friendship and love. Patience will make the banquet of life ever so much more resplendent.

The hunger for love is much more difficult to remove than the hunger for bread.

I am a lover and have not found my thing to love

I liked the food I got; I did not know any other, and hunger is a good cook. I liked our shack. Its being overcrowded only meant womblike security to me. Again

His bite will be cruel, but his tongue cunning, His breath seductive, but his grip deadly. The Dragon knows only hunger, never sated, Only thirst, never quenched. —Song of Venda

Gather close, my brothers and sisters. We have touched the stars, And the dust of possibility is ours. But the work is never over. Time circles. Repeats. We must ever be watchful. Though the Dragon rests for now, He will wake again And roam the earth, His belly ripe with hunger. And so shall it be, For evermore.

I have no mouth, but my hunger is fed, With glimpse, and touch, and kindness said. I have no eyes, but see a soul, The only one that makes me whole. I swell beneath a soldier's palm, Its touch my breath, my blood, my calm. I am utterly lost, but completely found, Captured, taken … a prisoner bound.

The art of Good Eating has two essential points: one must eat only when one is hungry, and one must take small bites.

The world where the owl is endlessly hungry and endlessly on the hunt is the world in which I live too.

A starving man won't notice a dirty plate.

Sexual desire is a state not unlike hunger.

We know we need, and so we acquire and eat and eat, past the point of bodily fullness, trying to sate a greater need. Ashamed of this, we turn skeletons into goddesses and look to them as if they might teach us how to not-need.

It is, at the most basic level, a bundle of deadly contradictions: a desire for power that strips you of all power. A gesture of strength that divests you of all strength. A wish to prove that you need nothing, that you have no human hungers, which turns on itself and becomes a searing need for the hunger itself.

This side of passion was my first perversion. The tendency toward excess veered out of control into bulimia, that state of fear and desire, that violent crashing back and forth between hunger and the abortion of hunger, between taking in and throwing back what is most needed and instinctively desired: food. The bread of life.

The physical food transubstantiates in our minds into something more ethereal, of human and emotional nurturance, a sense that our hungers are being sated. Even if you are just stuffing handfuls of fries into your mouth on a binge, you still feel that some emptiness, if briefly, is being filled.

I keep eating for fear I will be hungry.