Quotes About Desire

When you drank the world was still out there, but for the moment it didn't have you by the throat.

I don't know why, but with each new woman it seemed like the first time, almost as if I had never been with a woman before.

I only want the sky to burn me more and more burn me out so that the sun begins at 6 in the morning and goes past midnight

drink without smoke is like cock without pussy

I get the blues for him, for me, for all of us: for want of something to do we keep slaying our small dragons as the big one waits.

I will remember the hours of kisses our lips raw with love and how you offered me your cunt your soul your insides and how I answered offering you whatever was left of me

I can taste her in the air, I can feel her at my fingertips, I can see sidewalks built for her feet to walk upon, I can see pillows for her head, I can feel my waiting laughter, I can see her petting a cat, I can see her sleeping, I can see her slippers on the floor. I know that she exists but where is she upon this earth.

You boys can keep your virgins, give me hot old women in high heels with asses that forgot to get old.

And now I wonder which animal of us will eat the other first physically and last spiritually? We consume animals and then one of us consumes the other, my love.

every man believes that he can tame a nymph but it only leads to the grave — for the man.

Two bulls fighting for the cow. And a bony one at that. But in America the loser oftentimes got the cow. Mother instinct? Better wallet? Longer dick? God knows what.…

Oh, you've got a sweet voice, baby, such a sad sad sweet voice, I'd like to fuck you, I thought.

We'll sleep together tonight trying to fit ourselves inside the wallpaper.

I guess she felt as I: that the weakness was not Government but Man, one at a time, that men were never as strong as their ideas and that ideas were governments turned into men; and so it began on a couch with a spilled martini and it ended in the bedroom: desire, revolution, nonsense ended, and the shades rattled in the wind, rattled like sabres, cracked like cannon, and 30 dogs, 20 men on 20 horses chased one fox across the fields under the sun

I just wanted to get away from them. But there was no place to go. Suicide? Jesus Christ, just more work. I felt like sleeping for five years but they wouldn't let me.

There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but i'm too clever, I only let him out at night sometimes when everybody's asleep. I say, I know that you're there, so don't be sad.

I was 50 years old and hadn't been to bed with a woman for four years. I had no women friends. I looked at them as I passed them on the streets or wherever I saw them, but I looked at them without yearning and with a sense of futility. I masturbated regularly, but the idea of having a relationship with a woman- even on non-sexual terms-was beyond my imagination.

What I wanted was a cave in Colorado with three-years' worth of foodstuffs and drink. I'd wipe my ass with sand. Anything, anything to stop drowning in this dull, trivial and cowardly existence.

Nothing like beautiful legs. 'Cause with beautiful legs, even if you've been there only once or twice, there might be something up there besides the cunt, there might be something really marvellous this time - it could be a cunt, but it could be - it's just something about looking at the legs just makes you - I'm not saying there's anything wrong with the cunt, I'm just saying, you always imagine - some extra magic when you're looking at the outside portion of the female.

I drive toward it not wanting it getting it getting it as the cat stretches yawns and rolls over into another dream.

you you're a beast, she said your big white belly and those hairy feet. you never cut your nails and you have fat hands paws like a cat your bright red nose and the biggest balls I've ever seen. you shoot sperm like a whale shoots water out of the hole in its back. beast beast beast, she kissed me, what do you want for breakfast?

you smirk, look at her (what's this?), you're cut somewhere, love it, the dripping of red onto your dirty torn undershirt, the whiskey roaring through your invincibility: you're young, you're big, and the world stinks from centuries of Humanity while you're on course and there's something left to drink—

Unless the sun inside you is burning your gut, don't to it.

Voglio così tanto che non è quì e che non so dove cercarlo.