Quotes About Desire

Sorry about the blood in your mouth. I wish it was mine. I couldn't get the boy to kill me, but I wore his jacket for the longest time.

Tell me we're dead and I'll love you even more.

Here is the repeated image of the lover destroyed.

All night I streched my arms across him, rivers of blood, the dark woods, singing with all my skin and bone ''Please keep him safe. Let him lay his head on my chest and we will be like sailors, swimming in the sound of it, dashed to pieces.'' Makes a cathedral, him pressing against me, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believe his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me like stars.

Actually, you said Love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love. It's like a religion. It's terrifying. No one will ever want to sleep with you.

Is that too much to expect? That I would name the stars for you? That I would take you there? The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar cube?

character cries out accusingly at Grofield, "God damn it, all you want to do is die a smart-ass!" (177). The net

When God had completed the creation of the world as a sacred temple of his glory and wisdom, he conceived a desire for one last being whose relation to the whole and to the divine Author would be different from that of every other creature. At this ultimate moment God considered the creation of the human being, who he hoped would come to know and love the beauty, intelligence, and grandeur of the divine work...

Thanks to our capacity to adapt to ever greater fame and fortune, yesterday's luxuries can soon become today's necessities and tomorrow's relics."6

Every movement of his body is an unconscious protest. Every desire, every dream, no matter how intimate or personal, is a plot or a conspiracy. Every hope is a plan for insurrection. Every glance of the eye is a threat. His very existence is a crime against the state!

Slowly he lifted his hands in the darkness and held them in mid-air, the fingers spread weakly open. If he reached out with his hands, and if his hands were electric wires, and if his heart were a battery giving life and fire to those hands, and if he reached out with his hands and touched other people, reached out through these stone walls and felt other hands connected with other hearts -- if he did that, would there be a reply, a shock?

I had tasted what to me was life, and I would have more of it, somehow, someway.

Every man, it seems, interprets the world in the light of his habits and desires

There was a hunger for power reaching out of the senses of man and trying to say something in the symbols of action.

But he is product of a dislocated society; he is a dispossessed and disinherited man; he is all of this, and he lives amide the greatest plenty on earth and he is looking and feeling for a way out.

Maybe I would've been all right if I could've done something I wanted to do. I wouldn't be scared then. Or mad, maybe. I wouldn't be always hating folks; and maybe I'd feel at home, sort of.

organic wish to cease to be, to stop living, seized him. Either he was too weak, or the world was too strong; he did not know which. Over and over he had tried to create a world to live in, and over and over he had failed.

The most valued pleasure of the people I knew was a car, the most cherished experience a bottle of whisky, the most sought-after prize somebody else's wife.

Hope that one has chanced upon the road back to the way things used to be is apparently a strong desire in those who've been locked outside their previous lives.

I squat on my heels by his side and move my palm over him - a finger's-width distant - so that I might feel my ache of longing for him as a deep and essential part of me before I let it go

He jumped from the bed, but paused when he got to the sunporch. As Miranda saw him turn to look back at her, her whole body felt warm. "What is it?" she asked him, embarrassed now. But Etienne didn't look embarrassed at all. "It's good, cher. " He winked. "And next time, it'll be even better.

And I'm the only one who gets to dress up! And I can't wait to wear it! It's like cotton candy!" Roo arched an eyebrow. "Sticky?" "No! All pink and fluffy and…sweet. I love the way I feel in it." "I agree," Parker said hoarsely. "I love the way you feel in it, too. And I love the way you feel out of it even better." Roo stared at him. "Wow. You should write greeting cards.

Why can't grown-ups just give me stuff, let me do what I like and then go away A LOT?

standing in front of the jewelry store.