Quotes About Desire

Desire was a sharpness, a tear in the static of everyday life... it delivers not an ache, but a sudden state of grace.

No more words from the field! Thus begins the slow slide back to my life, back to the plans I drew before the summer became the summer of wanting you

My whole body struggled to summon any utterable phrase. I knew you were a good animal, but felt myself to be standing before an enormous mountain, a lifetime of unwillingness to claim what I wanted, to ask for it. Now here you were, your face close to mine, waiting.

The Oblivion Seekers

we fuck well because he is a passive top and I am an active bottom. I never said this out loud, but I thought it often.

I swam in dangerous waters, both metaphorically and literally. It was not so much that I didn't value my existence but more that I had an insatiable desire to push myself to embrace all that it could offer.

In any fairy-tale, getting what you wish for comes at a cost. There is always a codicil, an addendum to the granting of a wish. There is always a price to pay.

He wants to tear down the sky, he wants to rip every blossom from that tree, he wishes to take a burning branch and drive that pink-clad girl and her nag over a cliff, just to be rid of them, to clear them all out of his way. So many miles, so much road stands between him and his child, and so few hours left.

Do you still think of her, do you still catch yourself listening for her footsteps, for the sound of her breathing at night, because I do, all the time. I still think that one day I might wake and she will be there, next to me, again; there will have been some wrinkle or pleat in time and we will be back to where we were, when she was living and breathing.

She hadn't ever wanted children and yet she had. She had and she did

She has created this moment – no one else – and yet, now it is happening, she finds that it is entirely at odds with what she desires. What she desires is for him to stay at her side, for his hand to remain in hers. For him to be there, in the house, when she brings this baby into the world. For them to be together.

Whoever it used to belong to wishes her

To walk by his grave every Sunday is both a pain and a pleasure. She wants to lie there so that her body covers it. She wants to dig down with her bare hands. She wants to strike it with a tree branch. She wants to build a structure over it, to shield it from the wind and the rain. Perhaps she would come to live in it, there, with him.

It was not so much that I didn't value my existence but more that I had an insatiable desire to push myself to embrace all that it could offer. Nearly losing my life at the age of eight made me sanguine - perhaps to a fault - about death. I knew it would happen, at some point, and the idea didn't scare me; its proximity felt instead almost familiar. The knowledge that I was lucky to be alive, that it so easily could have been otherwise, skewed my thinking.

At the bottom of the steps, she turns to Iris, her face full of confusion. 'They said it would be there. They promised they would put it in there for me.' 'I'm sorry,' Iris says, because she doesn't know what else to say. 'I wanted it,' she says. 'I just wanted it. And they promised.

Agnes would like to tear it all down, rip it up, hurl it to the wind.

The whole thing made Esme want to burst into honesty, to say, let's forget this charade, do you want to marry her or not?

May I keep this?" It was not a question. He was already turning away, placing her miniature painting inside his leather book and tying the straps, so that the bird could never fly away again, even if it had lived.

For a long moment they gazed at each other, and Freddy felt her mouth go dry and her heartbeat accelerate. If the evening ended right now, she would still remember this moment for all her days. The music, the perfume of the flower baskets, and the hard look of desire in Dal's eyes.

Dal … Dal …" Mindlessly, she whispered his name as his kisses deepened and became possessive and deliberate. But slow. Exploring. Teasing. Never quite enough. Kisses that drank desire from her mouth and left her frantic with wanting, wanting, wanting.

This time his kiss was full and provocative, summoning sensations she had believed, had hop, were submerged too deeply to be awakened. But his fingers on her face, his mouth, his lips, stirred slumbering emotions and coaxed them to life. His hands moved to cup her head, to spread across her spine, and he crushed her against him as their kisses deepened.

Sam: You—you greatly overestimate my self-control." Grace: I'm not looking for self-control.

Grace," I said, very softly. Say something." Sam," she said, and I crushed her to me.

Sometimes you ask God for something and you don't know what you're asking.