Quotes About Desire

Victor: What does it feel like to be in love? Creature: It feels like everything is boiling over and spilling out of me; it feels like my lungs are on fire, and my heart is a hammer, and I feel like I can do anything...I feel like I can do anything in the world...

Why leave me hanging on a star When you deem me so high When you deem me so high When you deem me so high And why leave me sailing in a sea When you hear me so clear When you hear me so clear When you hear me so clear And why leave me hanging on a star When you deem me so high When you deem me so high When you deem me so high

I know cigarettes can kill & wonder why she wants to die.

A man who wants to die feels angry and full of life and desperate and bored and exhausted, all at the same time; he wants to fight everyone, and he wants to curl up in a ball and hide in a cupboard somewhere. He wants to say sorry to everyone, and he wants everyone to know just how badly they've all let him down.

A man who wants to die feels angry and full of life and desperate and bored and exhausted, all at the same time; he wants to fight everyone, and he wants to curl up in a ball and hide in a cupboard somewhere. He wants to say sorry to everyone, and he wants everyone to know just how badly they've all let him down.

these were people who'd gotten what they wanted, only to find out that it was the last thing on earth they actually needed (adulation, creative lift-off) to maintain their own mental equilibrium. This meant something.

all this vital music pouring out of him, all this new-found acceptance coming his way as well as money and acclaim, and all the guy wanted to do was sleep through the whole experience.

It's out of the question … Partly because I was always attracted to men or women who were never attracted to me. And I was never attracted to women and men who were attracted to me. I've never met the right person. I'd like to take [one mad plunge]. But not just with anyone; it just doesn't come naturally to me.

Like all hopelessly self-absorbed rock stars he detoured away from moral considerations and believed what he and his fans wanted.

Machinic desire can seem a little inhuman, as it rips up political cultures, deletes traditions, dissolves subjectivities, and hacks through security apparatuses, tracking a soulless tropism to zero control. This is because what appears to humanity as the history of capitalism is an invasion from the future by an artificial intelligent space that must assemble itself entirely from its enemy's resources.

Artists; those savage beasts that can't get enough of too much.

When I see something I desire, I take it. When it is out of my reach, I plan, meticulously, how I may obtain it. And when there is a trophy that everyone claims is unreachable, it only makes me want it more. And I achieve it.

He was born for hookers and tequila. And there was a disturbing lack of both in his new bunker of an office here buried underneath a mountain outside Denver. "One

I think about you all the time. I try to read, or brush my hair but all I think about is you. Sometimes I say your name over and over again, under my breath. No one can hear me, but I don't care. It just feels good to say it.

Urban man lives only in dreaming.

If Hild thought of sides, she thought of plots, of her mother, of Lindsey, its blood, its stink, and the world began to dissolve into a white hiss so that she wanted to step away from her body and become the marble maid again.

Want on legs," Gwladus said when she saw him. "Though for what, I don't know.

I had needed the animal warmth of the sex, had welcomed the familiar building heat of skin on skin, the harsh breath, the shudder that starts in your bones. The terrible urge afterwards to weep until I howled had been new.

Desire wrapped its arms around her and held her still, helpless, able only to breathe.

The arms that Thenike wrapped around her waist for support were strong and hard. Marghe wanted to lean into them and weep for what she had lost, though she did not know whether the loss was good or bad, or even real.

The curve of her cheek, the top of her shoulder where her shift had slipped, had the bloom and sheen of just-risen cream ready to be licked.

Kissing her was not like kissing Julia, who had been all length and plum softness, and whose messages had been very clear. Kick was like a powerful trapped beast. She stirred restlessly, one hand in the small of my back, pulling me closer, one on my shoulder pushing me away. I eased to one side, weight on my right elbow, head propped on my hand. I stroked her belly. The muscle loosened. She sighed. The sigh sounded as though it had a smile in it. I smiled in the dark.

You have thrown out a signal bright enough to draw any who can hear and see; now they will be clamouring to enter you, to know you, to have you as a bee might climb inside a flower. And like a bee they will strip you bare and leave you heavy will all that makes you who you are.

People could not be made to change. It had taken her a long time to learn that. People had to want to change themselves.