Quotes About Desire

Now we haven't got anything, and when you haven't got a single book, the idea of putting your hands on one is like Christmas and a birthday rolled up together.

The secret to a happy life is not in getting what you want. It is in learning to want what you get

Did the dead still want things? Or was death simply a letting go of all that is held so tightly in life—an understanding of the temporal and shallow nature of the human matters of possession, greed, desire, justice?

Maybe you should start wanting less

Sex is a story you know the ending of. More or less the same story with the same ending, every time. Yet we want to keep hearing it, the way a child listens to a fairy tale, vigilant for variation.

this body is home, my childhood is buried here, my sleep rises and sets inside, desire crested and wore itself thin between these bones— I live here.

Heartland Now that we've given our hearts away With the bric-a-brac, we want them back. Now we look for them secondhand, Someone else's, in the old songs, The slowly unfolding novels We never had time for. Hearts That taught themselves to fly; …overstuffed hearts, still leaking Downy secrets like feathers. We want someone to say, 'I give you my heart', meaning, 'Summer and winter', meaning 'All my time in the this world'…

These girls want nothing to do with last season's clothes.

I always thought the appeal for vampires are the same as religion, the desire to avoid death and live forever.

a bruise, blue in the muscle, you impinge upon me. As bone hugs the ache home, so I'm vexed to love you, your body the shape of returns, your hair a torso of light, your heat I must have, your opening I'd eat, each moment of that soft-finned fruit, inverted fountain in which I don't see me.

My tongue remembers your wounded flavor. The vein in my neck adores you. A sword stands up between my hips, my hidden fleece sends forth its scent of human oil.

I saw your eyes before I had eyes to see. And I've lived longing for your every look ever since. The longing entered time as this body. And the longing grew as this body wanes. That longing will outlive this body I loved you before I as born. It makes no sense, I know. Long before eternity, I caught a glimpse of your neck and shoulders, your ankles and toes. And I've been lonely for you from that instant.

Dwelling As though touching her might make him known to himself, as though his hand moving over her body might find who he is, as though he lay inside her, a country his hand's traveling uncovered, as though such a country arose continually up out of her to meet his hand's setting forth and setting forth. And the places on her body have no names. And she is what's immense about the night. And their clothes on the floor are arranged for forgetfulness.

Oh, aye. I'm the devil all right. And last night, you were begging to step into the fire.

Sometimes the only thing which truly tempts us is the thing which we cannot have.

Sidonie," he said, his voice strangely hoarse. "You are the most—I mean, you are so…I find you…ah, devil take it! Never mind!" "I beg your pardon?" "Nothing," he growled. "I misspoke. What did you say about oranges?

There you are. A simple commandment. Not ten of them, just one: 'Thou shalt not eat.' (Personally, I wish the very first edict from God hadn't involved dieting, don't you?)

For a women to wear the clothes that a man had bought her was to feel his touch with every waking moment. For a man to hear the whisper of cloth as walked, was to feel her response to him, the throb of her pulse as it intensified, the silky heat between her thighs as waited for him to unwrap her.

He almost thought that if he held her, touched his mouth to hers, took in the breath as it left her body, he would feel it too, would begin to breathe again, feel again.

Her hair is tucked behind her ears, a few stray strands lazily brushing her cheek. I suddenly have the strongest sensation of wanting to reach out and curl them in place behind her ear.

Let no one say that young love is generous. It is selfish and hungry. And

Let no one say that young love is generous. It is selfish and hungry.

To deny we need and want power is to deny that we hope to be effective.

When human women are said to be traps that lead to the downfall of men, Buddhist philosophers and psychologists would insist that it is not women per se that endanger men but rather women as they appear to deluded men.