Quotes About Desire

We consummate life and lose it because in some long-ago time someone, in the desire to unload his cock inside us, was nice, chose us among women. We take for some sort of kindness addressed to us alone the banal desire for sex. We love his desire to fuck, we are so dazzled by it we think it's the desire to fuck only us, us alone. Oh yes, he who is so special and who has recognized us as special. We give it a name, that desire of the cock, we personalize it, we call it my love.

I feel ugly, like I'm a bad person, and yet I'd like to be loved.

I began to weep with loneliness. What was I, who was I? I felt pretty again, my pimples were gone, the sun and the sea had made me slimmer, and yet the person I liked and whom I wished to be liked by showed no interest in me.

The reasonableness of others and my own desire for tranquility got on my nerves. The breath built up in my throat, ready to vibrate with words of rage. I felt the need to quarrel, and in fact I quarreled first with our male friends, then with their wives or girlfriends, and finally I went on to clash with anyone, male or female, who tried to help me accept what was happening to my life.

What's got into me? Do I want children? Do I want to be a mamma, nursing and singing lullabies? Marriage plus pregnancy? And if my mother should emerge from my stomach just now when I think I'm safe?

I thought of beauty as of a constant effort to eliminate corporeality. I wanted him to love my body forgetful of what one knows of bodies.

The new living flesh was replicating the old in a game, we were a chain of shadows who had always been on the stage with the same burden of love, hatred, desire, and violence.

He didn't want her the way he generally wanted women, to feel them under him, to turn them over, turn them again, open them up, break them, step on them, and crush them. He didn't want her in order to have sex and then forget her. He wanted the subtlety of her mind with all its ideas. He wanted her imagination. And he wanted her without ruining her, to make her last.

Volví a sacar novelas de la biblioteca circulante, las leía una tras otra. Pero a la larga no me hicieron bien. Proponían vidas intensas, diálogos profundos, un fantasma de la realidad más apasionante que mi vida real. Así, para sentir

Lei insomma s'era meritata Nino perché riteneva che amarlo significasse provare ad averlo, non sperare che lui la volesse.

The girl, perhaps without even realizing it, and who knows for how long, had been assessing the power of her swaying body, her restless eyes, on my husband; and he looked at her as one looks from a gray area at a white wall struck by the sun.

I wanted him to see in that plate of pasta everything that, by leaving, he would no longer be able to look at, or touch, or caress, listen to, smell: never again.

She wanted not only to disappear herself, now, at the age of sixty-six, but also to eliminate the entire life that she had left behind.

A nova carne viva repetia a velha por brincadeira, éramos uma cadeia de sombras sempre encenada com a mesma carga de amor, de ódio, de vontades e de violência.

La nueva carne viva copiaba en broma a la vieja, éramos una cadena de sombras que desde siempre se representaba con la misma carga de amor, odio, deseos y violencia.

She grumbled, she said sarcastically that men place such an enormous importance on fucking, she laughed: not Marcello - although even he doesn't joke - but Michele, who went crazy, he's been obsessed with me for a long time, and even runs after the shadow of my shadow.

In the crush men used the women to play silent games with themselves. One stared ironically at a dark-haired girl to see if she would lower her gaze. One, with his eyes, caught a bit of lace between two buttons of a blouse, or harpooned a strap. Others passed the time looking out the window into cars for a glimpse of an uncovered leg, the play of muscles as a foot pushed break or clutch, a hand absentmindedly scratching the inside of a thigh.

Beautiful everywhere, outside and in, male fantasies.

La nuova carne viva ripeteva la vecchia per gioco, eravamo una catena di ombre che andava da sempre in scena con la stessa carica di amore, di odio, di voglie e di violenza.

If she wants Marcello Solara, I will resign myself. I love her so much that if she's happy with someone else I will withdraw and between us everything will remain as it is now. But if she wants me--if she wants me--there's no help for it, you must give her to me.

Para escribir hay que desear que algo te sobreviva.

Para qué habrán servido entonces todas estas páginas. Me proponía aferrarla, tenerla otra vez a mi lado, y me moriré sin saber si lo he conseguido.

In a short while I wished I could talk every day to a boy on that level: how many mistakes I had made with him; what foolishness it had been to want him, love him, and yet always avoid him.

She deserved Nino, in other words, because she thought that to love him meant to try to have him, not to hope that he would want her.