Quotes About Desire

Sometimes I wish I had never met you, because then I could go to sleep at night not knowing there was someone like you out there.

Se ammazzi per sfizio, sei sadico, sei. Se ammazzi per soldi, sei un mercenario. Se ammazzi per soldi e per sfizio, sei un marine, ragazzo.

Der Geschlechtstrieb ist das Joch vor dem Triumphwagen der Meduse, an den wir geschirrt sind.

for years a love that was too strong for my heart had gnawed at my mind until insanity had spread the soothing balm of oblivion over my wounded spirit.

Rosina is one of that red-haired tribe which is even more repulsive in its physical characteristics than the others; the men are pigeon-chested and have long, skinny necks with protuberant Adam's apples. Everything about them is freckled, and their whole life through they suffer the torments of lust, these men, and fight an unending, losing battle against their desires, on the rack of a constant, loathsome fear for their health.

In every man the memory of the struggles and the heroes of the past is alive. But these memories are not incompatible with the desire for peace in the future.

Human speech is like a cracked cauldron on which we bang out tunes that make bears dance, when what we want is to move the stars to pity.

The heart, like the stomach, wants a varied diet.

I am Madame Bovary.

She wanted to die, but she also wanted to live in Paris.

Everything, even herself, was now unbearable to her. She wished that, taking wing like a bird, she could fly somewhere, far away to regions of purity, and there grow young again.

The crowd demands a god before everything else.

Se a cullare le azzurre campanule del tuo balcone credi che sospirando passi il vento mormoratore sappi che, occulto fra le verdi foglie, sono io respirare. Se mentre risuona confuso alle tue spalle vago rumore, credi che per nome ti abbia chiamato lontana voce, sappi che, fra le ombre che ti cercano, sono io a chiamare. Se a notte fonda si turba timoroso il tuo cuore mentre senti sulle labbra un alito ardente, sappi che, sebbene invisibile, accanto a te sono io a respirare.

Por una mirada un mundo; por una sonrisa, un cielo; por un beso…¡yo no sé qué te diera por un beso!

El amor...! El amor es un rayo de luna

Amar! Había nacido para soñar el amor, no para sentirlo".

Lust on this scale was rare: it seemed a crime to waste it.

Everybody he knew these days seemed to be making much more money with far less work than he had to get through before he saw a cheque. His inability to earn at an adequate rate had now been compounded by his loss of much of the family's capital in a card game. He wanted to work--highly paid, richly rewarded work. But most of all he wanted his £7,000 back.

A pettos speckled with gold ajiggle with a fremitus from the heart touches me like Athena's hoolet mewing in uncertain dark. So much is nature, whereon we build our particulars fastidious and critical. Your every arrow O Eros has hit me , as the song goes. O girls, girls. This arrow is Timo's curls, this is Heliodora's shoes, this the smell of quinces that blows from Demo's door, flowers plaited into Dorothea's hair and ox-eyed Antikleia's smile that is music from the islands, summer's stars.

We breathe, sleep, drink, eat, work and then die! The end of life is death. What do you long for? Love? A few kisses and you will be powerless. Money? What for? To gratify your desires. Glory? What coems after it all? Death! Death alone is certain.

A lawful kiss is never worth as much as a stolen one.

The spectacle is the nightmare of imprisoned modern society which ultimately expresses nothing more than its desire to sleep. The spectacle is the guardian of sleep.

It is an old truth that men and women sometimes miss what they hate as much as what they love.

And in the dark of that room, notorious for the woven patterns of desire it had seen, Ammar ibn Khairan held the woman beloved of the man he'd killed, and offered what small comfort he could. He granted her the courtesy and space of his silence, as she finally permitted herself to weep, mourning the depth of her loss, the appalling disappearance, in an instant, of love in a bitter world.