Quotes About Desire

I worship you like night's pavilion, O vase of sadness, o great silent one, And love you more since you escape from me, And since you seem, my night's sublimity, To mock me and increase the leagues that lie Between my arms and blue immensity. I move to the attack, besiege, assail, Like eager worms after a funeral. I even love, o beast implacable, The coldness which makes you more beautiful.

Seek not my heart; the beasts have eaten it

I am the vampire at my own veins.

the Devil's hand directs our every move the things we loathed become the things we love; day by day we drop through stinking shades quite undeterred on our descent to Hell.

Il me semble que je serais toujours bien là où je ne suis pas, et cette question de déménagement en est une que je discute sans cesse avec mon âme.

Am c?utat uitarea-n iubire: ce folos! C?ci dragostea mi-e numai un pat cu spini, f?cut S? dea acestor fete cumplite de b?ut!

Life is a hospital in which every patient is possessed by the desire of changing his bed. One would prefer to suffer near the fire, and another is certain he would get well if he were by the window.

The act of love greatly resembles torture or surgery.

Cum alÅ£ii prin iubire-ar vrea,s? st?pâneasc? viaÅ£a ta,eu vreau s-o st?pânesc prin groaz?.

Mais qu'importe l'éternité de la damnation à qui a trouvé dans une seconde l'infini de la jouissance!

Dis-moi, ton coeur parfois s'envole-t-il, Agathe!

The beginning of a novel: start a subject, no matter where, and to have the desire to finish, start with very beautiful phrases.

N'es-tu pas l'oasis où je rêve, et la gourde Où je hume à long traits le vin du souvenir ?

The panting lover bending o'er his fair one Looks like a dying man caressing his own tomb

He is at once a great lazybones, pitifully ambitious, and famous for unhappiness; for his entire life he has had practically nothing but half-baked ideas. The sun of laziness, which ceaselessly glows within him, vaporizes him and gnaws away that half-genius that heaven bestowed upon him.

Les amants des prostituées Sont heureux, dispos et repus; Quant à moi, mes bras sont rompus Pour avoir étreint des nuées.

Je préfère au constance, à l'opium, au nuits, L'élixir de ta bouche où l'amour se pavane ; Quand vers toi mes désirs partent en caravane, Tes yeux sont la citerne où boivent mes ennuis.

Mes bras sont rompus pour avoir étreint des nuées.

Ä°ÅŸte onlar gibi biri, Venüs heykelinin altl???na büzülmüÅŸ, ölümsüz tanr?çaya bak?p gözyaÅŸlar? döküyor... Gel gör ki insafs?z Venüs, uzaklara bilmediÄŸim bir ÅŸeylere bak?yor mermer gözleriyle.

Avalanche, veux-tu m'emporter dans ta chute?

Charles Baudelaire

I prefer to African wines, to opium, to burgundy, The elixir of your mouth where love parades itself; When my desires leave in caravan for you, Your eyes are the reservoir where my cares drink. — Charles Baudelaire, from "Sed Non Satiata," Fleurs du mal / Flowers of Evil . Translated by Geoffrey Wagner. (David R. Godine; First edition, second printing edition October 1, 1985) Originally published 1857.

Car je cherche le vide, el le noir, el le nu!

oh Lesbos, donde los besos lánguidos o alegres, ardientes como soles, frescos como sandías, son adorno de noches y días de gloria