Quotes About Desire

The fact is, I love him. He's the boy I want and one day he'll be MINE.

Unrequited love is all right in books and things, but in real life, it completely sucks

I want to tell him that everything is a mess, that I hate the in-between space, that my feet ache for the ground, that a very small, very scared part of me wants to touch the sky, and that that is maybe the worst thing of all.

Back then I didn't know what he did exactly, but I knew that's what I wanted--to come home and be as happy as he was

but it was like some witch's curse where the more we tried to stop being hungry the more starving we got. It

He could see now that she looked tired; the delicate tissue under her eyes bruised violet with fatigue. He fought an almost irresistible desire to trace the half-circles with his finger.

And after a little while of this my brain and my body and every single inch of me that was alive was flooded with the feeling that I was starving, starving, starving for Edmond. And what a coincidence, that was the feeling I loved best in the world.

and Edmond blew smoke rings in the air and I closed my eyes and wished they were mine.

And the soft sound of his voice made me want to move closer to him so I did, a little

People could not get enough of what they had lost, even if they no longer wanted it.

The generation that had information, but no context. Butter, but no bread. Craving, but no longing.

No one had told her this would happen, that her girlishness would give way to the solid force of wifehood, motherhood. The choices available were all imperfect. If you chose to be with someone, you often wanted to be alone. If you chose to be alone, you often felt the unbearable need for another body - not necessarily for sex, but just to rub your foot, to sit across the table, to drop his things around the room in a way that was maddening but still served as a reminder that he was there.

Jealousy was essentially "I want what you have," while envy was "I want what you have, but I also want to take it away so you can't have it.

What was it about needy girls? Jules wondered. They felt like they had the right to be needy, because they knew that other people would be interested in—although annoyed at—their needs. … They got all the attention. Boys turned their focus toward them, and messy situations results.

He couldn't tell her that what we wanted now, more than anything, was to fall asleep beside her. No touching, no kissing, no stimulation. No sensation, no consciousness. Just the act of sleeping beside someone you liked to be with. Maybe that was love.

The mystery of desire was way beyond the conceptual abilities of Jules Jacobson. It was like ... robotics. Just another subject that she couldn't understand at all.

Belzhar este singurul mod în care fiecare dintre noi poate avea ceea ce î?i dore?te. Singurul mod în care putem ob?ine din nou lucrul pe care l-am pierdut.

It could make you slightly psychotic if you really focused on the idea that girls had holes under their clothes. Holes that suggested, in the absence they pointed out, that they could be filled, and that you could do the filling.

She wondered if some people got to feel fully full, or whether it was everyone's fate to feel as if the state of being human was one in which the self was like a bag of something wonderful that had already been half-eaten.

age sixty-eight and still wanting love to exist in a pure column of light, still convinced that it could.

The world of law was filled with the fallen, but theater wasn't. No one ever "fell back" onto theater. You had to really, really want it.

I think how easy it would be to go through life as a goat. You don't have any problems. You don't fall in love, so you don't get crushed by loss. You just have your simple, farm-animal life, which I envy now.

people could not get enough of what they'd lost, even if they no longer really wanted it.

I wondered whether he might ever love me, and how I might rush that love into existence.