Kenneth Oppel Quotes

Desire is no light thing.

Desire, even in its wildest tantrums, can neither persuade me it is love nor stop me from wishing it were.

Never a possession, always the possessor, with skin as pale as smoke, and eyes tawny and sharp as yellow wine: Desire is everything you have ever wanted. Whoever you are. Whatever you are. Everything.

I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't do anything but think about him. At night I dream of him, all day I wait to see him, and when I do see him my heart turns over and I think I will faint with desire.

He loved her. He wanted her. He needed her. And he needed her now.

Longing, we say, because desire is full of endless distances.

You perhaps now know that desire reduces us to pulp.

Desire is craving enough to sacrifice for

Love clamors far more incessantly and passionately at a closed gate than an open one!

Nothing remains but desire, and desire comes howling down Elysian Fields like a mistral.

I am a lover and have not found my thing to love. That is a big point if you know enough to realize what I mean. It makes my destruction inevitable, you see. There are few who understand that.

You cannot conceive how I ache to be with you: how I would die for one hour.

And she loved a man who was made out of nothing. A few hours without him and right away she’d be missing him with her whole body, sitting in her office surrounded by polyethylene and concrete and thinking of him. And every time she’d boil water for coffee in her ground-floor office, she’d let the steam cover her face, imagining it was him stroking her cheeks, her eyelids and she’d wait for the day to be over, so she could go to her apartment building, climb the flight of stairs, turn the key in the door, and find him waiting for her, naked and still between the sheets of her empty bed.

Desire is one of the burning experiences of human life.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

I have to know" "What? What do you have to know?" "What you taste like." Another step. What happens when you know?" she rasped. "I stop wondering. Stop dreaming of you every night, thinking of you every minute of every day." Another step closer. "I think you wonder, too. I think you dream of me and wonder. You hate yourself for it. You hate me for it, but you cannot stop.

Love is when the desire to be desired takes you so badly that you feel you could die of it.

Among absent lovers, ardor always fares better.

We'll all be riding that streetcar of desire.

I don't play lovers. I wish I did. At least once I'd like to have a crack at one of those guys. A heartbreaker. Some people are born to it. I'm not.

A bit of lusting after someone does wonders for the skin.

Mysterious love, uncertain treasure, hast thou more of pain or pleasure! Endless torments dwell about thee: Yet who would live, and live without thee!

Absence does not make the heart grow fonder, but it sure heats up the blood.

Behavioral psychologists have observed that wanting something has a much stronger emotional impact than the pleasure that comes once you have it, or the memory of having had it.