Quotes About Desire

You want me to act like we've never kissed, you want to forget; pretend we've never met , and I've tried and I've tried, but I haven't yet... You walk by, and I fall to pieces.

You know that when I hate you, it is because I love you to a point of passion that unhinges my soul.

Love reduced to sex is just coupling.

I love you too much to spoil the immortality of a feeling with fleeting lust.

Sex without love is merely healthy exercise.

I just want you that's it. All your flaws, mistakes, smiles, giggles, jokes, sarcasm. Everything. I just want you.

Love gratified is love satisfied, and love satisfied is indifference begun.

Love begins with an image; lust with a sensation.

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

Oh, the jealousy, the greed is the unraveling. It's the unraveling and it undoes all the joy that could be.

Pleasure is very seldom found where it is sought. Our brightest blazes are commonly kindled by unexpected sparks.

He that loveth pleasure shall be a poor man.

In everything, satiety closely follows the greatest pleasures.

If pleasure was not followed by pain, who would forbear it?

The pleasures of the world are deceitful; they promise more than they give. They trouble us in seeking them, they do not satisfy us when possessing them and they make us despair in losing them.

For the rational, psychologically healthy man, the desire for pleasure is the desire to celebrate his control over reality. For the neurotic, the desire for pleasure is the desire to escape from reality.

Scratching is one of nature's sweetest gratifications, and the one nearest at hand.

Pleasure is continually disappointed, reduced, deflated, in favor of strong, noble values: Truth, Death, Progress, Struggle, Joy, etc. Its victorious rival is Desire: we are always being told about Desire, never about Pleasure.

Stolen waters are sweet, and bread eaten in secret is pleasant. [Proverbs 9:17]

Everyone is dragged on by their favorite pleasure.

We all try to escape pain and death, while we seek what is pleasant.

Give me books, fruit, French wine and fine weather and a little music out of doors, played by someone I do not know. I admire lolling on a lawn by a water-lilied pond to eat white currants and see goldfish: and go to the fair in the evening if I'm good. There is not hope for that --one is sure to get into some mess before evening.

Make me immortal with a kiss.

What I do and what I dream include thee, as the wine must taste of its own grapes...