Quotes About Desire

I wanta go to Tangiers, I want girls, I wanta write the biggest book in the world, I want spring to come, I want, I want-- Wanting, I get; getting, I lose; losing, I suffer; suffering, I die-- NOT WANTING, I DON'T GET NOT GETTING, I DON'T LOSE NOT LOSING, I DON'T SUFFER NOT SUFFERING, I DON'T DIE SUFFERING.

I suddenly began to realize that everybody in America is a natural-born thief. I was getting the bug myself.

Trouble is, what would I do with her once I won her?- it's like winning an angel in hell and you are then entitled to go down with her to where it's worse or maybe there'll be light, some, down there, maybe it's me's crazy-

I don't want to be courageous, my emotions are against it; I want to be happy

Go Moan for Man

the only people that interest me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yearn or say a commonplace thing … but burn, burn, burn like roman candles across the night.

the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!" What did they call such young people in Goethe's Germany?

In all, what Neal was, simply, was tremendously excited with life, and though he was a con-man he was only conning because he wanted so much to live and also to get involved with people that would otherwise pay no attention to him. He

All I wanted and all Neal wanted and all anybody wanted was some kind of penetration into the heart of things where, like in a womb, we could curl up and sleep the ecstatic sleep [...].

I told her it (sex) was beautiful. I wanted to prove it to her. She let me prove it, but I was too impatient and proved nothing. She sighed in the dark.

The one thing that we yearn for in our living days, that makes us sigh and groan and undergo sweet nauseas of all kinds, is the remembrance of some lost bliss that was probably experienced in the womb and can only be reproduced (though we hate to admit it) in death. But who wants to die? In the rush of events I kept thinking about this in the back of my mind.

nunca me comprendería porque me gustan demasiadas cosas y me confundo y desconcierto corriendo detrás de una estrella fugaz tras otra hasta que me hundo. Así es la noche, y eso produce. No puedo ofrecer más que mi propia confusión

We were standing outside on the great steps of the hall high above the blue waters of San Francisco Bay, and they were there, the white ships on the tide, and all my love rose to sing my newfound seaman's life. -- The Sea! Real ships! My sweet ship had come in, no dream but true with tangled rigging and actual shipmates and the job slip secure in my wallet and only the night before I'd been kicking cockroaches in my tiny dark room in 3rd Street slums.

I looked greedily out the window: stucco houses and palms and drive-ins, the whole mad thing, the ragged promised land, the fantastic end of America.

somebody's eye—a wife, a girl, a friend, an animal —a blood let drop— he for his sea, he for his fire, thee for thy desire

he wanted so much to live...

I'd also gone through an entire year of celibacy based on my feeling that lust was the direct cause of birth which was the direct cause of suffering and death and I had really no lie come to a point where I regarded lust as offensive and even cruel. "Pretty girls make graves

Alles, was ich wollte und was Neal wollte und was alle wollten, war, irgendwie ins Herz der Dinge vorzudringen,…

because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!" What did they call such young people in Goethe's Germany?

And I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes Awww!

The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'Awww!

The last thing is what you can´t get. Nobody can get to that last thing. We keep on living in hopes of catching it once for all

the little boy somehow thumped his foot just at the moment of drowse, to instantly wake me up, wide awake, back to my horror which when all is said and done is the horror of all the worlds the showing of it to me being damn well what I deserve anyway with my previous blithe yakkings about the sufferings of others in books. Books, shmooks, this sickness has got me wishing if I can ever get out of this I'll gladly become a millworker and shut my big mouth.

Pauline hiçbir zaman anlamayacakt? beni, çünkü ilgimi çeken çok fazla ÅŸey vard? ve geberinceye kadar birinden ötekine koÅŸacakt?m. Kendi kafa kar???kl???mdan baÅŸka bir ÅŸey sunamazd?m kimseye.