Quotes About Desire

Someone asked me recently - what would I rather give up, food or sex. Neither! I'm not falling for that one again, wife.

I can't swim farther than from here to the far side of a whiskey glass.

Love of love written by the broken hearted, love of life written by the dead.

I want something else. I'm not even sure what to call it anymore except I know it feels roomy and it's drenched in sunlight and it's weightless and I know it's not cheap. Probably not even real

Somewhere, far down, there was an itch in his heart, but he made it a point not to scratch it. He was afraid of what might come leaking out.

I am a monster, I realised, a monster that wants to stalk through the woods, free and alone, and cannot even bear so much as the touch of a branch on its skin. There'd be nothing wrong with that, if it weren't for the fact that every so often the monster wants to be loved and cosseted and has to grovel, whining, back to the world of men.

Suddenly I had a flash of insight: I am a monster, I realized, a monster that wants to stalk through the woods, free and alone, and cannot even bear so much as the touch of a branch on its skin.

I liked the way he cradled my cheeks in his hands as we kissed. He pressed his body closer to mine. I moved backward until my butt touched something cold. He'd backed me into the cooler. The thought repulsed me for a second and I tried to shove him away. "Kiss me back," he whispered, and I responded, all thoughts of where we were flying out of my brain. I wriggled closer and touched my lips to his once again. His hands tangled in my hair and the tip of his tongue met mine.

I pushed away my dessert, suddenly no longer hungry. Resentment had a way of filling up your stomach.

Annem her zaman ÅŸöyler derdi: "Seçimlerini bilgelikle yap, çünkü istediÄŸin ÅŸey eline geçebilir.

If you want something from an audience, you give blood to their fantasies. It's the ultimate hustle.

I don't think I was constructed to be monogamous. I don't think it's the nature of any man to be monogamous. Men are propelled by genetically ordained impulses over which they have no control to distribute their seed.

All I want to be is normally insane.

In being a loving son, I suppose I was trying to become a loved son.

She not no fool, Lilith tell herself. She not a sleeping princess and Robert Quinn is not no king or prince. He just a man with broad shoulders and black hair who call her lovey and she like that more than her own name. She don't want the man to deliver her, she just want to climb in the bed and feel he wrap himself around her.

Write about only three things: what you love, what you hate, and what you're deeply conflicted about.

Can people do that? Can people want to be with someone all the time, okay most of the time and yet also wish they were alone? And not in little compartments but at once? At the same time? All the time? I want to be alone but I need not to be.

Some man never get the woman who cure them from looking for another woman.

With so much leaving your front hole, no wonder you wish for something to enter the back.

I want to lie down in the grass on the sidewalk and I want to run and keep running.

I am content with much. This world never gives me anything, and yet I have everything I want.

Plenty people even in the middle of sufferation going pick the bad they know over the good they can only dream about, because who dream but madman and fool?

Then I wondered if everybody has that person that haunts them, the one that got away.

people do that? Can people want to be with someone all the time, okay most of the time, and yet also wish they were alone? And not in little compartments but at once? At the same time? All the time? I want to be alone but I need to not be. I