Quotes About Desire

I reached across that breathing air between us and found him.

I waited. I still hoped Glaucos would think of me. I would have married him in a moment. But I found myself hoping for another thing too, which I would not have believed the day before: that he would weep all the salt in his veins for Scylla's return, holding fast to her as his one, true love.

He puts a hand down, to lean against. The muscles in his arm curve softly, appearing and disappearing as he moves. His eyes are deep green on mine. My pulse jumps, for no reason I can name. He has look at me a thousand thousand times, but there is something different in this gaze, an intensity I do not know. My mouth is dry, and I can hear the sound of my throat as I swallow.

Plus tard , Achille dort à côté de moi. L'orage annoncé par Ulysse est arrivé, et le tissu rugueux de la tente tremble sous sa force. j'entends les vagues cinglantes gifler la grève , comme un reproche. Achille remue, et l'air remue avec lui, répandant la douce odeur musquée de son corps. Je pense que c'est ce qui va me manquer. Je pense que je me tuerai plutôt que de vivre ce manque et je me demande combien de temps il nous reste.

Almost, I can imagine that this is my life, held in the sweet circle of her arms. I would marry her, and we would have a child. Perhaps if I had never known Achilles.

Girls and boys would sigh over him, but all I saw were the thousand soft places of his body where his life might be ended.

Its burst of grainy sweetness filled my mouth; the skin was downy on my tongue. I had loved figs, once.

As Odysseus said, many boys took each other for lovers. But such things were given up as they grew older, unless it was with slaves or hired boys. Our men liked conquest; they did not trust a man who was conquered himself.

She turned before him slowly, showing the lushness of her figure as if she were roasting on a spit.

His flesh was hot as a brazier, and I pressed as close as he would let me, like a lizard to noonday rocks.

But the ache for him is stronger than my anger. I want to speak of something not dead or divine. I want him to live.

Il pensiero che suo padre potesse essere in collera e che tuttavia Achille continuasse a fare ciò che voleva, era una cosa incomprensibile per me, a stento immaginabile. Sentirglielo dire era come una droga. Non ne avevo mai abbastanza.

I thought only of the small island flung out somewhere in front of me, and the fair-haired boy I hoped I would find there.

few of these, so few I can count them on my fingers, I let go. They did not see me as their dinner. They were pious men, honestly lost, and I would feed them, and if there was a handsome one among them I might take him to my bed.

I hope that Hector kills you" The breath rasps in his throat. "Do you think I do not hope the same?" he asks

No había en el mundo palabras que yo quisiera oír más que las que él se callaba

I had fed off that look once, when I had been starving and thought such crumbs a feast.

The grain of his lips seemed to rest a hair's breadth from mine.

He watches me. It seems that he is waiting. I shift, an infinitesimal movement, towards him. It is like the leap from a waterfall. I do not know, until then, what I am going to do.

For millennia there have been men who react with horror and disgust to women's independence, men who desire women yet hate them, and who take refuge in fantasies of purity and control. What would it be like to live with such a man as your husband? There are too many today who could answer that. But that is the mark of a good source myth; it is water so wide it can reach across centuries. I hope you enjoyed the swim.

I tried to picture myself running up and down the beaches, tearing at my hair, cradling some scrap of old tunic he had left behind. Crying out for the loss of half my soul. I could not see it. That knowledge brought its own sort of pain. But perhaps that is how it was meant to be.

Se inclinaban hacia él como las flores hacia el sol, ávidos de recibir su brillo. Era lo que había dicho Ulises una vez: él tenía luz suficiente para hacerles héroes a todos.

He talked so often of longing for us and home. But it was lies. When he was back on Ithaca he was never content, always looking to the horizon. Once we were his again, he wanted something else. What is that if not a bad life? Luring others to you, then turning from them?

Las rígidas tiras de cuero se hundieron en la suave piel cuyos contornos yo había seguido con el dedo aquella misma noche. Las manos me temblaron, ávidas de deshacer las tensas correas y liberarle, pero no lo hice.