Quotes About Desire

You are like a god, like an immortal one,' she whispered to me one night in our bed, her naked body pressed to mine, our sweat golden and glistening in the candlelight. 'Oh, my love,' I whispered back to her, 'I am more mortal than all. It seems that a part of me dies every night that I lie with you.

Ô, the wine of a woman from heaven is sent, more perfect than all that a man can invent.

In the boundaryless forests, there're dancers of nude. Yet in the confines of pasture, there's promise of food. On which is your side? Ô, but tarry and bide, ere you decide, in both do confide.

Favoring 'resolution' the way we do, it is hard for us men to write great love stories. Why?, because we want to tell too much. We aren't satisfied unless at the end of the story the characters are lying there, panting.

Scent is such a powerful tool of attraction, that if a woman has this tool perfectly tuned, she needs no other. I will forgive her a large nose, a cleft lip, even crossed-eyes; and I'll bathe in the jouissance of her intoxicating odour.

I took her to bed with silk and song 'Lay still, my love, I won't be long, I must prepare my body for passion.' 'O, your body you give, but all else you ration...

There was no world, no land, no god or heaven or earth outside of their two bodies naked and trembling in the act of love.

Even the memory of cradling her in my arms is pure euphoria. And all that I ask out of life is that it be constant and unending euphoria.

Si je dois mourir dans cette belle vie, je veux que ça soit fait par tes belles mains.

What a face this girl possessed!—Could I neither die then nor gaze at her face every day, I would need to recreate it through painting or sculpture, or through fatherhood, until a second such face could be born.

Our eyes will know the heavens if our lips stay for each other.

Was I deranged? Maybe. Yet, is it not derangement that guides us to seek out those we want to love in this world?

All that I desire in life are three... A wilderness: A beach on the sun-drenched sea, A puff of opium, And thee.

All that I ask out of life is that it be constant and unending euphoria. And so, I make love and I write.

I remember her body so miraculously Fumbling with me so delicately Fighting with me so passionately Exhausting us both so mercilessly Before sleeping beside me so languidly.

Abundance, like want, ruins many.

Eating and scratching want but a beginning.

None of the great things in human life springs from the intellect; every one of them issues from the heart and its love.

The profoundest motive which leads us toward the saints is the desire simply to be in their company — to abide with them. It is love seeking the communion of those who have dedicated their lives to love and who are now fulfilled in it; it is the desire for that holy atmosphere in which the soul can breathe and for the mysterious current which nourishes it; it is the longing for the answer to the ultimate meaning of existence.

Nationalism, on the other hand, is inseparable from the desire for power. The abiding purpose of every nationalist is to secure more power and prestige, not for himself but for the nation or other unit in which he has chosen to sink his individuality.

There are three primal urges in human beings: food, sex, and rewriting some else's play.

Cuando una sola copa es demasiado, las demás nunca son suficiente. Nunca.

Oof," replied Easy, trying to loosen the clutch she had on his penis. "Say," noticed Judy, "you've got an erection." "People keep telling me that." "Obviously you're not a rat then. You find me attractive." "It's a simple reflex, ma'am. Anybody who rubbed my leg could produce a similar result." "You're ducking the issue." She stroked the head of his penis twice more and let go.

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