Quotes About Desire

She could not bear the thought of missing a single minute this evening in which she might be either looking at him or at least feeling his presence.

What is going to happen between you and me in that time? Are we going to do what we both want to do?

But did he want to repeat that sort of relationship? . . . The inability to share any of his inner self with her?

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.

You cannot make a romantic lover of me, my dear. Or a noble character. I want you. In bed, do you understand? And I mean to do everything in my power during the next two weeks to have you there. Nothing else. No romance.

It's not enough. There has to be something else. And there is nothing else between you and me.

Had he hoped, against all logic and sense, to find her broken and distraught with love for him?

It seems almost as if you want me to reject you. As if you wish to be saved from yourself.

She loved him, Christina thought quite consciously. She was in love .

Perhaps it was the knowledge that she was beyond him that had made his love of her such a lasting, painful thing.

I want to marry again . . . Eventually. To someone I can love with my whole being. To someone who will make the universe explode around me.

If all you need is a little temptation, then I am here at your service to provide it, ma'am.

There is no such thing as the love you are looking for. It is only in your dreams. If that is so . . . then I think I would prefer my dreams to your reality, Jack.

But if he let himself think too deeply, he could still dream of finding someone like her.

I could not possibly want anything more.

But in the meantime, he said, there is the loneliness and the emptiness to be dealt with. His lips touched hers again, but she drew back. Do you mean mine or your own? she asked.

Henry wanted to hate him. She did hate him! But she could not stop herself from caring. She had grown to enjoy his companionship, to need his attention and approval. She had come to love him and want his caresses. She had given herself to him completely on that one night they had had together, and had believed that for him it had been as earth-shattering an experience as it had been for her.

I fell in love with you when I saw you that summer, he said. I adored you for years afterward. You were so lovely, so pure, so totally unattainable.

Henry had never wanted a man, had never wanted caresses or tenderness. She had certainly never wanted the dependency of love. Her fall was, therefore, all the harder. She had no defense against the pain of an emotion that she had never experienced before and that she did not understand.

It was a development that she had desired for a long time. But now surely was the wrong time for it to happen.

I loved you passionately. I always dreamed of your loving me, far back where dreams are kept.

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

And all the time he stood there . . . he was aware of Christina beside him, beautiful, elegant, gracious, smelling of lavender—and for this evening and a few more days his to look at, to admire, to yearn for.

unguarded moment she pictured herself waltzing with Viscount Whitleaf