I couldn’t peel my eyes off her face or her body. Even if she had asked me not to follow her, I would have followed anyway. I was in a Norah state of mind.

Lust is a dangerous thing. It can make you believe things that are not real. It can seduce your mind and lead it blindfolded to the cliff that will be its demise.

Yet, whether to the glory or to the shame of human nature, in what we call pleasure (with an excess of scorn, perhaps) there are abysses as deep as those of love.

His jeans, soft against her legs, made her realize that twice tonight they'd done the deed with him more dressed than not. She liked such desperation in a man.

And while I initially resisted, the thought of touching her, of her wanting me to touch her . . . Well, damn, I just wasn't strong enough to abstain from that.

A wise man governs his eyes, not because it is wrong to delight in beauty, but because otherwise his delight may suffer transmutation into something very different.

For men, I think, love is a thing formed of equal parts lust and astonishment. The astonishment part women understand. The lust part they only think they understand.

They looked at each other. They weren't thinking anymore. The time for that had come and gone. Smashed smiles lay ahead of them. But that would be later. Lay Ter.

For I chase but one hind, he says, one strange deer timid and wild, and she leads me off the paths that other men have trod, and by myself into the depths of the wood.

I took the plug out of the chemical bath of lust that my wits were soaking in and waited for it to empty. I smoked a cigarette while I contemplated the return of reason.

It's just me throwing myself at you,romance as usual, us times us,not lust but moxibustion,a substance burning closeto the body as possiblewithout risk of immolation.

She did not care where he was or how she was going to find him, all she knew is the reward would be worth it...however, alive, kicking and raring to go would be preferable

Lust is to the other passions what the nervous fluid is to life; it supports them all, lends strength to them all ambition, cruelty, avarice, revenge, are all founded on lust.

I was completely and irrevocably in lust; which tends to make a person impassive to others’ pain. Love makes us compassionate. Lust makes us deaf to all but the lover.

People call me “Mustache,” because I have an eyebrow on my upper lip. When I close my lips it’s like a wink and a kiss combined. It’s like lust overload.