Quotes About Desire

Antiabortion activists often make exceptions for rape and incest, which suggests that it is her desire for sex for which a woman must pay with her pain.

too many of us now tend to worship self-indulgence and consumption.

And the real surprise, for all involved, is that we are so much more than we have been told we are - that we long for more and in that longing have more company than we ever imagined.

I'm glad, I said, with an effort, refusing to let my mouth close up with jealousy. It wasn't that I wanted a husband and a baby; I didn't, or rather, I only wanted them the way I wanted to live to a hundred someday, far off, never thinking about the particulars. But they meant life: she was living, and I wasn't.

You're the only right thing I've ever wanted.

It wasn't that I wanted a husband and a baby; I didn't, or rather, I only wanted them the way I wanted to live to a hundred: someday, far off, never thinking about the particulars.

I hated her; I wanted her to burn, the way so many of the corrupted had burned, because she'd put her hold on them. But wanting cruelty felt like another wrong answer in an endless chain.

I'd want to. If you want, I want.

Also I hadn't lost an ounce of the passionate desire to beat him over the head with a large stick, and surely that was a sign of true love.

It's a lie that matches his desire.

We're going home tomorrow. I'm going home. And my mother is going to be so happy, and for a long time, she won't care about anything, except that I'm back. But then she's going to want me to want the right things again. The things that the family think are the right things. She stopped, and took a deep breath and let it out. But I'm not going to. I'm going to want the things I want, and help them the way I can help them. And those are going to be the right things, too.

I will lay my hand upon the flow of time, if need be, that you shall have however much of it you seek.

But wanting cruelty felt like another wrong answer in an endless chain.

The tsar was holding her hands against his chest, the ring on his finger gleaming pale silver like the tears running in silver lines down his cheeks; he was gazing down at her with eyes shining jewel-green, as though she were the most beautiful thing in the world.

So I need to know if I can get on a plane and come to you. Because that's what I want to do.

You intolerable lunatic," he snarled at me, and then he caught my face between his hands and kissed me.

It was exactly what I wanted, only once I was in it, I didn't want it after all.

I didn't want her to need to do things like that. I didn't want her to need a sword.

I wanted to scream, to weep. I wanted to drag my hand across the world and wipe it.

he was doing what he was meant for—something so perfectly aligned with his nature that it was as easy as breathing. It made sense suddenly that you'd like it, that it would be everything you wanted to do, if there were something you were this good at, and it rewarded you with endless buckets of mana on top. Your own body would teach you to want it more than anything—want it so much you'd have to learn to want anything else.

And they didn't stop at safety, either. They wanted comfort, and then they wanted luxury, and then they wanted excess, and every step of the way they still wanted to be safe, even as they made themselves more and more of a tempting target, and the only way they could stay safe was to have enough power to keep everyone off that wanted what they had.

It wasn't that I wanted a husband and a baby; I didn't, or rather, I only wanted them the way I wanted to live to a hundred: someday, far off, never thinking about the particulars. But they meant life: she was living, and I wasn't.

But the world I wanted wasn't the world I lived in, and if I would do nothing until I could repair every terrible thing at once, I would do nothing forever.

But the world I wanted wasn't the world I lived in, and if I would do nothing until I could repair every terrible thing at one, I would do nothing forever.