desire

you are the mysterious fire at my finger tips

If you must chase make certain its with passion so you may reap a worthy reward.

True passion motivates the life forces and brings forth all things good.... desire is the poor cousin to passion, ever hungry and with no real result.

You are the Arabian stallion that neighs on the crossroad of my heart ache covering me with the dust of my own ardor.

To live in the shadow of another person...to desire to be adored as that person is....is the weakest ambition of all. Find yourself. Be loved as yourself.

Every time I opened my mouth, flame licked up my throat. I could have razed vil­lages, kid­napped princesses.

We did not touch each other. We were both leaning over the abyss.

The desire for sudden change and the thought of their realization by force often appears among men like a disease and gains ground mainly in young brains; only these brains do not think as they should, do not amount to anything in the end and the heads that think thus do not remain long on their shoulders. For it is not human desires that dispose and administer the things of this world. Desire is like a wind, it sifts the dust from one place to another, sometimes darkens the whole horizon, but in the end calms down and leaves the old and eternal picture of the world. Lasting deeds are realized on this earth only by God__ will, and man is only His humble and blind tool.

I didn't grasp that desire and duty could rival each other, least of all that they most often did.

I wanted to hear his window open, hear his espadrilles on the balcony, and then the sound of my own window, which was never locked, being pushed open as he'd step into my room after everyone had gone to bed, slip under my covers, undress me without asking, and after making me want him more than I thought I could ever want another living soul, gently, softly, and, with the kindness one Jew extends to another, work his way into my body, gently and softly, after heeding the words I'd been rehearsing for days now, Please, don't hurt me, which meant, Hurt me all you want.

You might say that S. has only himself to blame, that it is entirely his choice to fight this fight, to live a life of vigilant somnolence or somnolent vigilantism, to allow himself to be satisfied with Sola in the margins of his manuscripts instead of in his arms, and you might be right. But you ought to understand, too, that there's an attrition that takes place inside, one in which options and choices and even desires are ground ever smaller until finally their existence can no longer be confirmed by observation or weight or displacement but only by faith. Until desire is a ghost.

Raimon was amused to see that the countess Carenza grew more beautiful by the day: her expression has softened and the pouches under her eyes had disappeared. She carried herself confidently, secure in the knowledge that she was fascinating to one pair of eyes at least.

Your heart desire will come, but when it comes, you desire for another, and when it comes again, you still aspire for another, that shows your level of ingratitude.

Once you see that your skin and your gift are two sides of the same coin, you can never forget it. It preserves religion from any arrogance and denial.

It only needs a desire, not words; to start a conversation.

Half naked, he drank her in with his eyes, imprinting this moment into his mind. This, he would take to his death _ the woman that stirred him to life.

She wanted to get some personal profit out of things, and she rejected as useless all that did not contribute to the immediate desires of her heart, being of a temperament more sentimental than artistic, looking for emotions, not landscapes.

Language, the unconscious, the parents, the symbolic order: these terms in Lacan are not exactly synonymous, but they are intimately allied. They are sometimes spoken of by him as the __ther_ _ as that which like language is always anterior to us and will always escape us, that which brought us into being as subjects in the first place but which always outruns our grasp. We have seen that for Lacan our unconscious desire is directed towards this Other, in the shape of some ultimately gratifying reality which we can never have; but it is also true for Lacan that our desire is in some way always received from the Other too. We desire what others _ our parents, for instance _ unconsciously desire for us; and desire can only happen because we are caught up in linguistic, sexual and social relations _ the whole field of the __ther_ _ which generate it.