Quotes About Craving

I can't stay away from Chinese food. I really love that stuff.

You know how people are, always wanting the one thing they can't have.

It's that...what I want isn't what I need.

Stay where I can taste you. Take the pleasure I give you.

What I want, isn't what I need...

Why couldn't she get the man out of her mind? Because he reminded you what that hole between your legs is really for.

In fact, his adult brain acted like his adolescent brain used to. It stopped functioning. All it wanted to do was wrap itself around the owner of that scent and purr.

Really, Mitch Shaw had absolutely no shame. Sissy knew this when he walked into the Lewis Sisters' Pie Shop and dropped to his knees in front of the cold case. His hands rested on the glass, and he looked at each pie like a small child would. "I…I can't make up my mind," he gasped. Like Mitch needed to make up his mind. He could finish everything in that case and still be hungry less than an hour from now.

A man who has schemed for some time can no longer do without it; all other ways of living are to him dull and insipid.

I really love good food occasionally, but I need time to enjoy it, and I need to be hungry.

Sometimes one feels the need of a word more powerful than love, or at least one more exclusive to the love of one's heart.

She wanted his very soul, it seemed. Well, she would have it. He had no more use for it himself.

He could no longer prolong the sweet agony.

She was suddenly plagued by a thoroughly novel desire to rush across to where he still sat in his chair, and cradle his head against her breast. She had never seen him vulnerable, had never even dreamed that he had any weakness.

She felt no uncontrollable physical passion. Only something far, far worse. Only a deep feeling of affection. Only a craving to get behind his mask—because he assuredly did wear one, however much he denied doing so. Only a longing to know the man as he was and to find that after all he was likable and lovable. Only a need to deny reality and find her fantasy lover again.

Being with them had always filled him with a yearning for a similar sort of love. He had tried to find it, but he had never come close.

She would not live with him day by day, aching for every kind word or chance touch.

He was not sure how many minutes passed while they held each other and kissed each other as if they could never be close enough to satisfy the craving of their hearts. The depth of their very obviously mutual passion left him shaken and disoriented.

Today the clerk in the fancy deli next door asked me how I was, and I said, 'I have deep longings that will never be satisfied.

Joy, it is, which I've never known before, only pleasure or excitement. Joy is a different thing, because its focus exists outside the self – delight in something external, not satisfaction of some inner craving.

As novelist Harry Crews once wrote, I'm the kind of person who—if he can't have too much of something—doesn't want any of it. In

Joy, it is, which I've never known before, only pleasure or excitement. Joy is a different thing, because its focus exists outside the self-delight in something external, not satisfaction of some inner craving.

All I know of love is hunger.

Weightlessness is like heroin, or how I imagine heroin must be. You try it once, and when it's over, all you can think about is how much you want to do it again. But apparently the thrill wears off.