I desire to be with you. I miss you. I feel lonely when I can't see you. I am obsessed with you, fascinated by you, infatuated with you. I hunger for your taste, your smell, the feel of your soul touching mine.

Almost everybody gets tired and bored by one lackadaisical topic. If you hit them with something delicious, like a sexy adventure, then the world will want to hear you speak, mind you! Don't become a vulgarian.

DesireI desire youmore than foodand drinkMy bodymy sensesmy mindhunger for your tasteI can sense your presencein my heartalthough you belongto all the worldI waitwith silent passionfor one gestureone glancefrom you

Your washing machine is my bathtub. Every time I see you my heart spins with desire. YA by nosit' Moskvu shtany dlya vas, kak drozh' babushki. (I'd wear Moscow as pants for you, like a shivering grandma.)

Amuse yourself, torment your desires. Drink when you're thirsty -- that would be very much too simple! If you didn't harbour a temptation eternally in your soul, you'd run the risk of forgetting yourself.

There's the good girl leading a charmed life who secretly covets to be the rare and elusive femme fatale and the femme fatale who yearns to be good and then there is their nemesis - men who dream and desire both.

I had a dream about you. You were drinking coffee, and I was eating coffee with a spoon, like soup. You thought I must be hungry, and you were right—I was hungry for your body. You had woken up my desire.


There are people who feel they should be with you, but something is preventing them from coming close. Please can you just lower the frequency of your stern looking face and smile...and they will make you their habit.

what was a rose but the living proof of desire, the single best evidence of human longing and earthly devotion. but desire could be twisted,after all, and Jealousy was the name of the rose that did well in arid souls.

Can I be blamed for wanting a real body, to put my arms around? Without it I too am disembodied. I can listen to my own heartbeat against the bedsprings...but there’s something dead about it, something deserted.

Desire, desire which knows, we draw no advantage from our shadows except from some veritable sovereignties accompanied by invisible flames, invisible chains, which, coming to light, step after step, cause us to shine.

What a face this girl possessed!—Could I neither die then nor gaze at her face every day, I would need to recreate it through painting or sculpture, or through fatherhood, until a second such face could be born.

Your hand can seize today, but not tomorrow; and thoughts of your tomorrow are nothing but desire. Don’t waste this breath, if your heart isn’t crazy, since "the rest of your life" won’t last forever.

You have no concept of fairness, apart from your desire to have your own way. I suggest you put that notion from your head, because despite what you believe, the realms will not cater to your whims, and neither will I.

What was he? A mere human, stuck between the rungs of blended adolescence and nascent adulthood. What power did he command over the mysterious forces of love? Which sword could shatter the impenetrable armour of desire?