The inside of the old Camaro smelled like asphalt and desire, gasoline and dreams.
Maggie StiefvaterTags: dreams desire cars driving gasoline camaro
the abuser's desire to abuse is not created by the child - it is there before the child appears
Carolyn AinscoughTags: shame desire blame child-abuse abuse child-sexual-abuse pedophiles sexual-abse
The most fundamental thing about a person is desire. It defines them. Tell me what a person wants, truly wants, and I'll tell you who they are, and how to persuade them.
Max BarryTags: desire persuasion
It's unnerving how you fit in the basin of my thighs.
Audrey ReyTags: love romance sex lust desire attraction relationship
When it comes to you
I can’t help myself
I’ve never been this
attached
to someone’s flaws
Tags: love desire attraction flaws relationship imperfection
Before you make a decision, ask yourself this question: will you regret the results or rejoice in them?
Rob LianoTags: happiness inspiration future-plans choices desire regret results rejoice choices-and-consequences life-decisions impulsiveness responsivility
Overheard on a Saltmarsh"
Nymph, nymph, what are your beads?
Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them?
Give them me.
No.
Give them me. Give them me.
No.
Then I will howl all night in the reeds,
Lie in the mud and howl for them.
Goblin, why do you love them so?
They are better than stars or water,
Better than voices of winds that sing,
Better than any man's fair daughter,
Your green glass beads on a silver ring.
Hush, I stole them out of the moon.
Give me your beads, I want them.
No.
I will howl in the deep lagoon
For your green glass beads, I love them so.
Give them me. Give them.
No.
Tags: beauty desire possession goblin nymph beads
She led him to the top of the stairs, where light came straight from the sky because the second-story windows of that house had been placed in the pitched ceiling and not the walls. There were two rooms and she took him into one of them, hoping he wouldn’t mind the fact that she was not prepared; that though she could remember desire, she had forgotten how it worked; the clutch and helplessness that resided in the hands; how blindness was altered so that what leapt to the eye were places to lie down, and all else—doorknobs, straps, hooks, the sadness that crouched in corners, and the passing of time—was interference.
Toni MorrisonTags: desire
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