Quotes About Desire

A real kiss," he said. "That's what I needed, just one more time.

I want to pull you close and never let you go.

I want to pull you close and never let you go," he whispered. (pg 224)

I grip his wrists and lift onto my toes, forever trying to get through the barriers of skin and bones and gravity and relativity, hoping to find answers by crawling inside of him and mending our everythings. Teller pushes back until I'm against the wall once more and all it would take is the tilt of my head for our lips to touch.

I was three-and-thirty years of age. Youth was quite gone; beauty I had never possessed; and I was content to think of myself as a confirmed old maid, a quiet spectator of life's great drama, disturbed by no feverish desire for an active part in the play.

and he knew that our dreams are none the less terrible to lose, because they have never been the realities for which we have mistaken them.

Wanting less is probably a better blessing than having more.

My ambition was to live like music.

He was beginning to see her as a locked garden that he could sneak into and sit in for days, tearing the heads off the flowers.

When he held her that way, she felt so happy that it disturbed her. After he left, it would take her hours to fall asleep, and then when she woke up she would feel another onrush of agitated happiness, which was a lot like panic. She wished she could grab the happiness and mash it into a ball and hoard it and gloat over it, but she couldn't. It just ran around all over the place, disrupting everything.

He realized what had been disturbing him about her. With other women whom he had been with in similar situations, he had experienced a relaxing sense of emptiness within them that had made it easy for him to get inside them and, once there, smear himself all over their innermost territory until it was no longer theirs but his.

What is it we desire? pleasure, happiness. What! the pleasure of an instant, only; or that which is more solid and permanent?

We weep for what we may never lose

The heart has reasons of which reason knows nothing.

Red", I write "is the color of life. It's blood, passion, rage. It's menstrual flow and after birth. Beginnings and violent end. Red is the color of love. Beating hearts and hungry lips. Roses, Valentines, cherries. Red is the color of shame. Crimson cheeks and spilled blood. Broken hearts, opened veins. A burning desire to return to white.

I won't bite." "Are you sure?" My voice was rough. "I won't bite right now," he said with a ghost of a smile. The soft expression bemused me enough so that the gentle patting lured me to the recliner. Logan wrapped strong arms around me and pulled me into his lap. My butt fit him like we were interlocking puzzle pieces.

connected?" I licked again, a broad swipe. "Your fangs and your cock, I mean? They're both long

specially looking forward to something else, to him and

What is desire but the hard wire argument given to the mind's unstoppable mouth

she made a purring sound in her throat and pressed into his palm

Para um homem, a mulher é como uma pintura ou uma estátua clássica. Ele escolhe uma e leva para casa, esperando que combine com a mobília existente lá.

As the next car in the line pulled up, he sent a last yearning glance after Kate, wanting to imprint that laughing image on his mind forever. Girls like her were not for guys like him, who parked cars and worked construction to earn college money. His imagination hadn't been good enough to guess the way the night would end. But that was then, and this

That's either powerfully romantic

Once we begin our journey, it would be appropriate if you show a groveling desire to please your employer." Juliet raised her eyebrows loftily. "I was planning on being the sort of servant who is erratic and unreliable, but who won't let you be cheated by anyone other than myself." "That does sound more your style than groveling," he said with a hint of a smile.