Quotes About Desire

only reason you ever thought it did was because each joint brought a little bit of relief from the craving caused by the one before.

We very quickly start to feel cleansed, but the Little Monster is demanding its fix. If we're using the wrong method, we interpret these cries as "I want a joint," and although we might hold out to begin with, eventually the Big Monster will have its way and we find ourselves back in the trap.

I closed my mind, prayed it wouldn't be me, kept my head firmly in the sand and hoped that I would wake up one morning with no desire to smoke.

The true situation is this: when you are addicted to nicotine and are not smoking, there is something missing.

The desire to drink comes from the Big Monster—the illusion that drinking gives us pleasure or support. • The edgy feeling we get when we're without a drink is merely the Little Monster wanting to be fed. • The Little Monster was created by drinking in the first place. • Therefore drinking does not relieve the anxiety, it causes it.

what we are 'enjoying' when we smoke after a period of abstinence is not the cigarette, but ending the state of wanting or needing it.

The body cannot crave nicotine. Only the brain can crave.

artificial void

with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, alcohol and cock and endless balls

Every American wants MORE MORE of the world and why not, you only live once. But the mistake made in America is persons accumulate more more dead matter, machinery, possessions & rugs & fact information at the expense of what really counts as more: feeling, good feeling, sex feeling, tenderness feeling, mutual feeling. You own twice as much rug if you're twice as aware of the rug.

Not even the human imagination satisfies the endless emptiness of the soul.

Who'll come lie down in the dark with me Belly to belly and knee to knee Who'll look into my hooded eye Who'll lie down under my darkened thigh?

Naked in solitary prison cell he looks down at a hard-on.

I do not wish to escape to myself, I wish to escape from myself. I wish to obliterate my consciousness and my knowledge of independent existence, my guilts, my secretiveness.

Shit, Violence, bullets in the brain Unavailing. We're in too deep to pull out. Waiting for an orgasm, Mr. Baldwin? Yes, waiting for an orgasm that's all.

I am miserable now—not feeling unhappiness, just lack of life coming to me and coming out of me—resignation to getting nothing and seeking nothing, staying behind shell. The glare of unknown love, human, unhad by me,—the tenderness I never had. I don't want to be just a nothing, a sick blank, withdrawal into myself forever. I just want something, beside the emptiness I've carried around in me all my life.

Hairy Mammal whaddya want

So he said, 'What would you like to do? What is your desire really?' I said, 'Doctor, I don't think you're going to find this very healthy and clear, but I really would like to stop working forever–never work again, never do anything like the kind of work I'm doing now–and do nothing but write poetry and have leisure to spend the day outdoors and go to museums and see friends.

all movement stops and I walk in the timeless sadness of existence, tenderness flowing thru the buildings, my fingertips touching reality's face, my own face streaked with tears in the mirror of some window - at dusk - where I have no desire - for bonbons - or to own the dresses or Japanese lampshades of intellection -

I don't do anything with my life except romanticize and decay with indecision. —  Allen Ginsberg, The Book of Martyrdom and Artifice: First Journals and Poems: 1937-1952 . (Da Capo Press; 1st Da Capo Press Ed edition November 1, 2006)

Freedom does that to people, he realizes. Once you've tasted it, ou never want to let go.

Whether we fall by ambition, blood, or lust, like diamonds we are cut with our own dust. —JOHN WEBSTER Grant

Lorsque je dormais loin de vous, Dans un rêve toujours le même, Je vous voyais à mes genoux Me dire chaque nuit : « Je t'aime ! » Maintenant que tu m'appartiens, Dans les bras chaque nuit je rêve Que tu pars, qu'un méchant t'enlève Et que je meurs quand tu reviens

He took a deep breath, as if he were taking the air from my own lungs and swallowing it for himself.