Best 5910 quotes in «desire quotes» category

No hells or heavens has Mirdad to offer you, but Holy Understanding which lifts you far beyond the fire of any hell and the luxuriance of any heaven. Not with the hand, but with the heart must you receive the gift. For that the heart must needs be disencumbered of every stray desire and will, save the desire and will to understand.

No marketplace, free or otherwise, is good when it fails to consider the basic human state of needs at every stage of life.

No matter what goals you set to accomplish always remember there is a thing known as Life which you should never forget to live and enjoy

No matter how much struggle you face in your journey towards success, someday you will look back and realize your struggles changed your life for the better.

No matter what your wildest dreams of success, money, or great notoriety are? Nothing happens in a blink. It’s always series of events in our lives that bring us to these places we desire. So when you’re praying, wishing, or even daydreaming, on what you think will truly bring you happiness, remember the obstacles, people, places, along the way will not be left out. Pray, wish or daydream to be placed in situations that get you where you want to be. Pray for the right path.

No multitude of words could have been more significant than those moments of silence, or more pregnant with the first-felt throbbings of desire.

No one has ever done this before. No one has ever been you before. This exact interrelated web of people and events and places and memories and desire and love that is your life hasn't ever existed in the history of the Universe. Welcome to a truly unique phenomenon. Welcome to your life. I want you to be here. Welcome to here.

Nor yours nor mine, nor slave nor free!

Not even a book on prosperity can prosper you, when what is expected of you is given, your time won't be wasted.

Nothing big ever happens, good or bad, unless the floor falls out first. Let your longing wind you down through that spiral. And know that falling can be the most wickedly awesome and totally safe thing you’ve ever done. Down, down, down, because when you hit that solid ground you’ll know. You might touch down softly, or you might land in an ungraceful thud. But land you will and when you’re ready, you can stretch your shaky legs, dust yourself off tossing your head back to the heavens and proclaim ‘Here I am! All that I am, and all that I will be.” And your heart will still love what it loves. And you will remember that was good in you, and in her. And these memories will comfort and will serve you as you move through life, open to love – wherever and whenever it finds you.

Nothing is easier than self-deceit. For what every man wishes, that he also believes to be true.

Nothing in the world can take the place of Persistence. The desire and ability to press on has and always will solve the problems of the human race and divide those who achieve from those who might have been.

Nothing is left of me Each time I see her

Nothing makes you feel more naked than someone identifying a desire you never knew you possessed.

Nothing matures a Man like RESPONSIBILITIES, Nothing humbles him like MISSED OPPORTUNITIES, What makes him are his CHOICES, And nothing changes him like LOVE. Nothing defines a Man like his CHARACTER, Nothing teaches him like his EXPERIENCE, What drives him is his VISION, And nothing weakens him like BETRAYAL. Nothing scares a Man like losing his EGO, Nothing pursues him like his PASSION, What interests him is his GAME, And nothing intoxicates him like his DESIRES. But above all, NOTHING FAVOURS A MAN LIKE FINDING A GOOD WOMAN.

Nothing lasts forever,' Richie repeated. He looked up at Bill, and Bill saw tears cut slowly through the dirt on Richie's cheeks. 'Except maybe for love,' Ben said. 'And desire,' Beverly said.

Nothing makes a person desire improvement like failure

Nothing turned a man on faster than a woman that couldn't get enough of what he had to offer.

Nothing won't change, until the choice is placed first. And until when choice is given a chance.

Now, if you open the treasure chest of desire, what do you find there? What do all the desires have in common? You. Go ahead and stop here and test it for a few days if you are really serious about the question. After you get past the first thousand, you begin to enter into a subtle territory, known as the border between desire and yearning. Or, if you want, between answers and questions. The defining quality, or essence, of desire is that it is engaged as if it were an answer.

Now, I'm not going to deny that I was aware of your beauty. But the point is, this has nothing to do with your beauty. As I got to know you, I began to realise that beauty was the least of your qualities. I became fascinated by your goodness. I was drawn in by it. I didn't understand what was happening to me. And it was only when I began to feel actual, physical pain every time you left the room that it finally dawned on me: I was in love, for the first time in my life. I knew it was hopeless, but that didn't matter to me. And it's not that I want to have you. All I want is to deserve you. Tell me what to do. Show me how to behave. I'll do anything you say.

Now, it so happens that our culture—or lack of it, for our culture is in a state of flux and crisis—places a high value on materialism, and, by extension, greed. Our culture’s emphasis on greed is such that people have become immune to satisfaction. Having acquired one thing, they are immediately ready to desire the next thing that might suggest itself. Today, the object of desire is no longer satisfaction, but desire itself.

Now is not the time for bigots and racists. No time for sexists and homophobes. Now, more than ever, is the time for ARTISTS. It’s time for us to rise above and to create. To show humanity. To spread hope. We must prevent society from destroying itself, from losing its way. Now is the time for love.

Now there was only one hope, the sovereign grace of God. God would have to transform my heart to do what a heart cannot make itself do, namely, want what it ought to want. Only God can make the depraved heart desire God. Once when Jesus’ disciples wondered about the salvation of a man who desired money more than God, he said to them, “With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God” (Mark 10:27). Pursuing what we want is possible. It is easy. It is a pleasant kind of freedom. But the only freedom that lasts is pursuing what we want when we want what we ought. And it is devastating to discover we don’t, and we can’t.

... Odette seemed a fascinating and desirable woman, the attraction which her body held for him had aroused a painful longing to secure the absolute mastery of even the tiniest particles of her heart.

Obstacles (antray) are indeed due to desires. As desires keep on decreasing, so do the obstructions (antray) keep on getting destroyed. Then, everything is acquired (at that stage).

Of course," she muttered with a rough laugh that was far from humorous, "how foolish of me to consider such a thing when I have seen the evidence of your loathing myself." "Loathing? Oh yes, I despise you." Avenell murmured darkly. The sarcasm dripping from his harsh words sent a shiver down her spine. He lowered his chin but did not break eye contact. "I would love to show you in a thousand ways just how much I loathe you, Miss Chadwick." As he spoke, his expression slowly shifted. It felt as though he allowed his facade to fall away, giving her a glimpse of the truth beneath before he shuttered his features again. For a brief moment, she again detected that hunger she had first seen on the night they had collided outside the Mawbrys' town house. It left her breathless. In a blast of heat and trembling awareness, she understood that what she had been seeing in him all along had never been anger or revulsion. It was desire, possibly as deep and complex as her own. The revelation stunned her.

Oh no, I do not gloat over my own person, I do not get all hot wrestling with my soul in a darkened room; I have no desires, save the desire to express myself — in defiance of all the world's muteness.

Oh, wind and rain may haunt me, Look to the north and pray. Send me, please, his kisses; Send them home today. I'm begging Jesus, 'Please, Send his love to me!' Left alone in desert, This house becomes a hell, This love becomes a tether, This room becomes a cell. Mummy, Daddy, please, Send him back to me! How long must I suffer? Dear God, I've served my time. This love becomes my torture; This love, my only crime. Oh, lover, please release me. My arms too weak to grip, My eyes too dry for weeping, My lips too dry to kiss. Calling Jesus, 'Please, Send his love to me!

Oh to have you with me, to have you here, not to be alone, but to be with you, my beauty, you of all souls! You.

O Lord, thy will be done in my life as it is written in Heaven in Jesus Name. Amen.

Ô, Muse of the Heart’s Passion, let me relive my Love’s memory, to remember her body, so brave and so free, and the sound of my Dreameress singing to me, and the scent of my Dreameress sleeping by me, Ô, sing, sweet Muse, my soliloquy!

On Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell in His Girl Friday: "These two simply appreciate one another more than either of them appreciates anyone else, and they would rather be appreciated by one another more than by anyone else. They just are at home with one another, whether or not they can ever live together under the same roof -- that is, ever find a roof they can live together under.

Once they were both naked and pressed together again, with Christian’s mouth on one of Max’s nipples and Max’s hands on Christian’s inner thighs, Christian was struck by how intense it was, how urgent and powerful and deep this wanting went. All his life he was raised to believe—wanted to believe—that desire was a superficial thing, something you worked through and, if you were disciplined and moral, ultimately put aside in favour of deeper, more important pursuits.

Once you fully embrace your sensuality, life becomes an adventure.

Once you start learning how to choose the peaceful, a small room is enough; a small quantity of food is enough; a few clothes are enough; one lover, a very ordinary man, can be enough of a lover. But if you go on asking for more and more, then thousands of men are not enough. Even the most beautiful man is finished sooner or later. Your desire goes on and on. It knows no end... it stops nowhere.

One could never know anything except through desire, real desire, which was not the same thing as greed or lust; a pure, painful and primitive desire, a longing for everything that was not in oneself, a torment of the flesh, that carried one beyond the limits of one's mind to other times and other places, and even, if one was lucky, to a place where there was no border between oneself and one's image in the mirror.

Now do you understand why I'm interested in you? You're a locked door, sweetheart. You give no one a key and you never answer the door when anyone knocks...Ah, but sometimes, sometimes I get a peek through the keyhole and what I find there...It's like glimpsing you as you're stripping. Underneath all of that darkness is something hungry, something desperate, something, oh, so deliciously vulnerable.

Now ladies, please get this: the moment you claim full ownership over your man (as in, he is NOW my man, 'My property!'), you not only lose your ability to overwhelm him with DESIRE, but you are also taking away his total freedom and smoothening rather than sharpening his EDGES to be his BEST loving and passionate self. To claim your man 'entirely' dampens his passion for you substantially.

...now that I was beside him, I realized the folly in believing lust and desire for this man would stay outside the door like an obedient dog waiting to be called in.

O bid these strangers go ; Turn to my lips till their cup overflow ; Hurt me with kisses, kill me with desire, Consume me and destroy me with the fire Of bleeding passion straining at the heart, Touched to the core by sweetnesses that smart ; Bitten by fiery snakes, whose poisonous breath Swoons in the midnight, and dissolves to death !

Objectives are only words written on paper without passion and desire

Obstacles are only there because of desires. As the desires decrease, the obstacles will get broken. Then, everything can be attained.

Oh, Séraphine," he purred, pushing his nose close to her jaw to inhale her righteous scent. "Who do you suppose sits in Parliament? Who makes the laws, runs the government of this great and lofty nation, hmm?" She hadn't bathed this morning, he could tell, and she smelled of herself: woman, sweat, sex. He licked across her cheek, tasting salt and pure saint, to her mouth. He bit her lips. Once, twice, a third time, wanting, craving.

Okay, so I shouldn't have fucked with her on the introduction thing. Writing nothing except, Saturday night. You and me. Driving lessons and hot sex ... in her notebook probably wasn't the smartest move. But I was itching to make Little Miss Perfecta stumble in her introduction of me. And stumbling she is. "Miss Ellis?" I watch in amusement as Perfection herself looks up at Peterson. Oh, she's good. This partner of mine knows how to hide her true emotions, something I recognize because I do it all the time. "Yes?" Brittany says, tilting her head and smiling like a beauty queen. I wonder if that smile has ever gotten her out of a speeding ticket. "It's your turn. Introduce Alex to the class." I lean an elbow on the lab table, waiting for an introduction she has to either make up or fess up she knows less than crap about me. She glances at my comfortable position and I can tell from her deer-in-the-headlights look I've stumped her. "This is Alejandro Fuentes," she starts, her voice hitching the slightest bit. My temper flares at the mention of my given name, but I keep a cool facade as she continues with a made-up introduction. "When he wasn't hanging out on street corners and harassing innocent people this summer, he toured the inside of jails around the city, if you know what I mean. And he has a secret desire nobody would ever guess." The room suddenly becomes quiet. Even Peterson straightens to attention. Hell, even I'm listening like the words coming out of Brittany's lying, pink-frosted lips are gospel. "His secret desire," she continues, "is to go to college and become a chemistry teacher, like you, Mrs. Peterson." Yeah, right. I look over at my friend Isa, who seems amused that a white girl isn't afraid of giving me smack in front of the entire class. Brittany flashes me a triumphant smile, thinking she's won this round. Guess again, gringa. I sit up in my chair while the class remains silent. "This is Brittany Ellis," I say, all eyes now focused on me. "This summer she went to the mall, bought new clothes so she could expand her wardrobe, and spent her daddy's money on plastic surgery to enhance her, ahem, assets." It might not be what she wrote, but it's probably close enough to the truth. Unlike her introduction of me. Chuckles come from mis cuates in the back of the class, and Brittany is as stiff as a board beside me, as if my words hurt her precious ego. Brittany Ellis is used to people fawning all over her and she could use a little wake-up call. I'm actually doing her a favor. Little does she know I'm not finished with her intro. "Her secret desire," I add, getting the same reaction as she did during her introduction, "is to date a Mexicano before she graduates." As expected, my words are met by comments and low whistles from the back of the room. "Way to go, Fuentes," my friend Lucky barks out. "I'll date you, mamacita, " another says. I give a high five to another Latino Blood named Marcus sitting behind me just as I catch Isa shaking her head as if I did something wrong. What? I'm just having a little fun with a rich girl from the north side. Brittany's gaze shifts from Colin to me. I take one look at Colin and with my eyes tell him game on. Colin's face instantly turns bright red, resembling a chile pepper. I have definitely invaded his territory.

Once I had a wild fling on an otherwise boring weekend holiday in Edinburgh, with a guy I met who turned out to be a psychiatrist. He agreed with me, after hours and hours of our naked cavorting in a hotel, that I was a sex addict; although he did stress he wouldn’t change me for the world. It turned him on that I was so sexual, and we turned a dull weekend in a grey city into something wonderful for the two of us. So, what was the problem?

Once you are defiled, you can't get back your purity by any means, instead, you will only look for ways to be defiled over and over again.

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.

One excuse, could destroy a multitude of chances.

One has to attain an ego-less state (nir-ahankari); attaining a nir-maani state (a desire-free state that wants importance from others) is not enough. The egoism one has of being nir-mani is very subtle. The external ‘horns’ are worn down but the internal ones still remain. The inner ‘horns’ will cause an internal biting.