Best 5910 quotes in «desire quotes» category

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    His gaze drops to my lips. I want to kiss him, and it’s getting harder and harder to remember why I shouldn’t. But when he shifts, my immediate reflex is to break the connection and turn away.

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    His hands fell to my hips, and his fingers dug through my rain-drenched clothes.

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    His new friends did not, perhaps, realize the overpowering effect of the sudden change upon this northernbred man; the effects of the moonlight and the soft trade-wind, the life of love which surrounded him here. Love whispered to him vaguely, compellingly. It summoned him from the palm fronds, rustling dryly in the continuous breeze; love was telegraphed through the shy, bovine eyes of the brown girls in his estate-house village; love assailed him in the breath of the honey-like sweet grass, undulating all day and all night under the white moonlight of the Caribbees, pouring over him intoxicatingly through his opened jalousies as he lay, often sleepless, through long nights of spice and balm smells on his mahogany bedstead—pale grass, looking like snow under the moon. The half-formulated yearnings which these sights and sounds were begetting were quite new and fresh in his experience. Here fresh instincts, newly released, stirred, flared up, at the glare of early-afternoon sunlight, at the painful scarlet of the hibiscus blooms, the incredible indigo of the sea—all these flames of vividness through burning days, wilting into a caressing coolness, abruptly, at the fall of the brief, tropic dusk. The fundament of his crystallizing desire was for companionship in the blazing life of this place of rapid growth and early fading, where time slipped away so fast. ("Sweet Grass")

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    His Lips

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    His proximity, that damn smile, just makes me hot in all the right places, but also pissed as hell. I don’t know if I should knee him in the balls or hump his leg like a bitch in heat.

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    Hoe krijg je intimiteit in taal? Hoe wordt de roman die ook een film is toch weer een roman met alle typisch romanachtige kanten ervan? En hoe krijg je léven in die roman? Er moet een relatie zijn tussen taal en het andere; de wereld van vlees en bloed daarbuiten. Die laatste kant had ik misschien te weinig ontwikkeld. Ik word tegenwoordig soms zo overvallen door de gekste emoties, of liever gezegd: door verlangen naar die emoties.

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    Holiness has to do with more than mere acts. Our motives must be holy, that is, arising from a desire to do something simply because it is the will of God. Our thoughts should be holy, since they are known to God even before they are formed in our minds.

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    Holy Christ, how Win devastated him. He had starved for her for so long, dreamed of her so many nights, and woken to many bitter mornings without her at first he hadn't believed she was real. He thought of Win's lovely face, and the softness of her mouth against his, and the way she had arched beneath his hands. She had felt different, her body supple and strong. But her spirit was the same, radiant with the endearing sweetness and honesty that had always pierced straight to his heart. It had taken all his strength not to go on his knees before her.

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    Hope can be foolish or misguided, but there was no such thing as false hope. Hope was always true even when there was no evidence to support its claim.” - Liam

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    Hope and desire, All unfulfilled, Have more than rope And hangman killed.

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    Hope may seem frail. But in the face of adversity, hope can be our strongest ally.

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    Hope strengthens desire and love strengthens confidence.

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    How can I use these [romantic] desires to love him, to serve him as a brother in Christ...

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    How beautiful it is to replace the world inside us with someone else’s reality. The way we allow someone to look into our deepest fears and desires, our treasured secrets, our worst nightmares and our most beautiful dreams, without any hesitations. The way we give away everything that could destroy us completely to our last bit, and tear us off into uncountable pieces. And yet we sit there, expecting them to carve the most beautiful memories of our life that we could carry to our graves.

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    How can you possibly do everything you want to do in life if you start doing a bunch of things twice?

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    How could it be that I had actually kissed her cheek without enveloping her, without becoming her? How could I at that moment have refrained from kneeling at her feet and howling?

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    How could someone as good looking as him not fall for someone as stunning and sexy as me?

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    How easily such a thing can become a mania, how the most normal and sensible of women once this passion to be thin is upon them, can lose completely their sense of balance and proportion and spend years dealing with this madness.

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    How easy it is to mistake desire for truth, a metaphorical reality for a metaphysical one.

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    How easy it is to mistake desire for truth and a metaphorical reality for a metaphysical one.

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    However much you possess there's someone else who has more, and you'll be fancying yourself to be short of things you need to exact extent to which you lag behind him.

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    How is it that disappointment arrives as soon as what you have desired for so long steps over the threshold? It’s like finding the end of your wedding train dragging behind in the mud.

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    How is it that there was never you until there was and then all was you?

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    How I wish I was like the water, Flowing so freely with every drop Let my every emotion wonder, No need to start, nor even stop How I wish I was like the fire, Burning with every flame up Leaving a trace of hot desire As a Phoenix raises its' wings up How I wish I was like the earth, Raising each flower from the ground Seeing the beauty of death and birth And then returning to the ground How I wish I was like the wind, Hearing each whisper, sound and thought A lonesome and wandering little wind, Shattering all that has been sought Oh, how I wish I was where you are, Not separated by empty space, so far It seems like we're galaxies apart, But we find hope within our heart And how I wish I was all of the above, So I can come below and yet forget, The beauty of angels which come down like a dove And demons who love with no regret.

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    How much are you willing to sacrifice to achieve the level of success you desire?

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    How long you will live in your dreams? The time is now, it's better to go and follow them..

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    How many losses does it take to stop a heart, to lay waste to the vocabularies of desire?

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    How many relationships would be better if they were born out of something genuine rather than merely a petty desire? Divorce would drop because people would know why they started doing something in the first place. Teen pregnancy would almost be eradicated because for the first time we wouldn’t need to simply succumb to our desires and cravings pushed onto us from the media and society in general. Prostitutes would be searching for redundancy packages and brothel owners for new careers, and the whole shallow and superficial nature of sex would be under the spotlight.

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    How much misery . . . how much needless despair has been caused by a series of biological mismatches, a misalignment of the hormones and pheromones? Resulting in the fact that the one you love so passionately won't or can't love you. As a species we're pathetic in that way: imperfectly monogamous. If we could only pair-bond for life, like gibbons, or else opt for total guilt-free promiscuity, there'd be no more sexual torment. Better plan - make it cyclical and also inevitable, as in the other mammals. You'd never want someone you couldn't have.

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    How miserably hypocritical, you might say, but no sooner am I offered a chance to flee Hell than I yearn to stay. Few families hold their relations as closely as do prisons. Few marriages sustain the high level of passion that exists between criminals and those who seek to bring them to justice. It’s no wonder the Zodiac Killer flirted so relentlessly with the police. Or that Jack the Ripper courted and baited detectives with his - or her - coy letters. We all wish to be pursued. We all long to be desired.

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    How strange is it that our beloved finds its way to us in everything? The orange moon, a freckle, the smell of coffee— are all bridges to the one we desire. How does our beloved find us in this way? Or are we the ones instead who find our beloved in everything? Our intense want of them necessitates the nearness of them. And so we seek beauty only to be flooded with the beauty of our beloved. And we write ellipses on the page only to be thrice reminded of the freckle below their lips...

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    How to get back on the right track can be quite simple if you know what you want.

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    Human beings are primarily defined by what we desire, not what we know.

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    Human tool-makers always make tools that will help us get what we want, and what we want hasn't changed for thousands of years because as far as we can tell the human template hasn't changed either. We still want the purse that will always be filled with gold, and the Fountain of Youth. We want the table that will cover itself with delicious food whenever we say the word, and that will be cleaned up afterwards by invisible servants. We want the Seven-League Boots so we can travel very quickly, and the Hat of Darkness so we can snoop on other people without being seen. We want the weapon that will never miss, and the castle that will keep us safe. We want excitement and adventure; we want routine and security. We want to have a large number of sexually attractive partners, and we also want those we love to love us in return, and be utterly faithful to us. We want cute, smart children who will treat us with the respect we deserve. We want to be surrounded by music, and by ravishing scents and attractive visual objects. We don't want to be too hot or too cold. We want to dance. We want to speak with the animals. We want to be envied. We want to be immortal. We want to be gods. But in addition, we want wisdom and justice. We want hope. We want to be good.

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    Human nature is seldom at a loss to find or create an excuse for pursuing the predominant bias of inclination.

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    How you think and create your inner world that you gonna become in your outer world. Your inner believe manifest you in the outside

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    Humans do not possess a single, focused will. In their hearts, they have countless bugs, buzzing in all directions. There are times when all these bugs pounce on the same food, but when they are focused on different desires, people take actions that can only be described as incoherent.

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    Humans do not simply, innocently, and honestly disagree with each other about the good, the just, the right, the principles and applications of moral distinction and valuation, for they are already caught, like it or not, in a complex dynamic of each other’s desires, recognition, power, and comparisons which not only relativizes moral distinctions and valuations, but makes them a constant and dangerous source of discord.

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    Hunter versus prey, and the look in his eyes told her, in no uncertain terms, eating her alive was a distinct possibility.

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    Hygge gives us a framework to support our very human needs, desires and habits. To learn to hygge is to take practical steps to evoke it - to shelter, cluster, enclose, embrace, comfort and warm ourselves and each other. Cultivating the habits of balance, moderation, care and observance will then comfortably entire more hygge in our daily lives.

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    I am a cherry blossom tree hit with the first hints of spring. Something dormant inside me has stirred awake after a long hibernation. Something I’m not sure I even realized lurked there, waiting to be roused, until this breathless instant pinned beneath Beck’s gaze. Now that it’s made its presence known, I’m not sure I can banish it back to slumber. I’m not sure I want to.

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    I am a bed of sparks you breathe upon and kindle

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    I am dead because I lack desire, I lack desire because I think I possess, I think I possess because I do not try to give, In trying to give, you see that you have nothing, Seeing that you have nothing, you try to give of yourself, Trying to give of yourself, you see that you are nothing, Seeing that you are nothing, you desire to become, In desiring to become, you begin to live.

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    I am a selfish, conceited, impudent little animal, it is true, but, after all, I am only one grand conglomeration of Wanting…

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    I am Desire, am I not? That is what I am; that is what I do. I make things want things. Where I touch, things want and need and love - drawn to their objects of desire like butterflies to a candle-flame.

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    I am in a cage. I desire to be set free.

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    I am gazing-- desires unaware of destiny frisk about my mindscape like children.

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    I am mission and must complete it.

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    I am roses and thorns and pearls from the deep...

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    I barely brushed towards her cheek as I moved towards her mouth, her nails tickled my chest, driving me insane. Kissing her became my single reason for breathing.