Quotes About Desire

So long in secret cabin there he held Her captive to his sensual desire

O why doe wretched men so much desire, To draw their dayes vnto the vtmost date, And doe not rather wish them soone expire, Knowing the miserie of their estate, And thousand perills which them still awate, Tossing them like a boate amid the mayne, That euery houre they knocke at deathes gate? And he that happie seemes and least in payne, Yet is as nigh his end, as he that most doth playne.

It is the mynd, that maketh good or ill, That maketh wretch or happie, rich or poore: For some, that hath abundance at his will, Hath not enough, but wants in greatest store

Emongst the Roses grow some wicked weeds; For this was not to love, but lust inclind; For love does alwayes bring forth bounteous deeds, And in each gentle hart desire of honour breeds.

I knew I was worthless and at the same time I was convinced somebody would find me worthy, would worship me for this sexual allure so foreign to my understanding yet so central to my being.

Had he already inspired a passion in some stranger's heart?

Was a glimpse of his cock worth a Mercedes?

The best explanation of masochism, the appeal of masochism, is that it accepts shame; the sickening shame one must swallow and hide is at last accepted, employed, even loved—the shame about a mutilation, hairiness, too much or not enough fat, the shame about wanting to serve, to be a dog, son, wife, slave, horse, prisoner.

Guy's whole body was humming. Normally he thought only of his head – his eyes, his smile – and was aware of his body as merely the principle of forward propulsion trundling him along. But now he was all these bright pools of sensuality – his nipples, his half-hard cock, his tingling anus, even his feet. He was glowing all over and he felt the animal in him was longing to shed its clothes.

Guy's own erection was so hard it ached, as if it were an angry dog begging to be let out and pawing at the door.

Je rêvais continuellement, durant mon adolescence au pensionnat, d'un adulte (mon prof de gym, l'un des peintres de l'école d'art où nous allions prendre des cours - qui s'occuperait de moi, devinerait mes pensées, anticiperait mes besoins (car je ne les aurais jamais exprimés et lui, s'il m'aimait, serait capable de lire en moi).

Death in Venice made me hope that there might be others like me, somewhere out there, possibly in the ritzy nearby community of Charlevoix. He'd be older, rich, devoted to me and my magical youth.

Was I grieving because he didn't possess everything, absolutely everything, or because I owned nothing?

I've always associated reading and writing with sex.

Whoever has not known the pleasures of open stacks—with their erotically charged corridors.

He'd lived so much of his life for sexual love, which was a filthy thing, really, all that saliva and semen and anal smears, filthy! Much better to live alone and watch TV in bed or talk to Pierre-Georges as he was in his bed and watching the same movie. Both of them spotlessly clean.

What if I can't get it up?" Guy wailed. "That's of no importance if you're on the right end of a whip.

A middle-aged man who's probably down to jerking off every other day. A weary man of forty who's already seen everything come around twice, who let me fuck him that once in a hole where whole armies of men have doubtless passed.

They kept flipping back and forth, but it wasn't clear which was the more exquisitely pleasurable pain, to penetrate or to be penetrated.

It was men, not women, who struck me as foreign and desirable and I disguised myself as a child or a man or whatever was necessary in order to enter their hushed, hieratic company, my disguise so perfect I never stopped to question my identity. Nor did I want to study the face beneath my mask, lest it turn out to have the pursed lips, dead pallor and shaped eyebrows by which one can always recognize the Homosexual.

Sainthood to those who labor over a hard cock in vain.

If the baron is a masochist himself, then why would he attract another masochist? I suppose he wants someone cute to attract other sadists.

The thought of resuming my life made me want to end it—unless I could change it completely.

The poet must steal fire from the heavens.