Francis Quarles Quotes

Just once in my life--oh, when have I ever wanted anything just once in my life?

Desire is the very essence of man.

I felt incomplete. I was always happy but I felt incomplete and that I needed to be pushing through.

I'm a fan of leaving people hungry; I don't like leaving people satisfied.

I never want to be satisfied.

I always feel discontent, like there's somewhere else to go, somewhere else to be. I'm a very ambitious person.

If you desire, you are restless.

It is that of an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction.

There are very few things in my life that I can't have if I want them. So when I see something that I can't have, immediately I'm obsessed by it.

Wanting more is just a recipe for heartache.

Desire is poison at lunch and wormwood at dinner; your bed is a stone, friendship is hateful and your fancy is always fixed on one thing.

Don't you ever imagine things differently than what they are? Oh, Marilla, how much you miss.

I finally had what I'd wantes all those years. Except now that I had it, i felt as empty as this unkempt pool I was dangling my legs into.

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

The problem is not the harshness of Fate, for anything we want strongly enough we get. The trouble is rather that when we have it we grow sick of it, and then we should never blame Fate, only our own desire.

No one is contented in this world, I believe. There is always something left to desire, and the last thing longed for always seems the most necessary to happiness.

It's wanting that gets so many folks in trouble.

I want - I want - I want - was all that she could think about - but just what this real want was she did not know.

There is a German word, Sehnsucht, which has no English equivalent; it means 'the longing for something'. It has Romantic and mystical connotations; C.S. Lewis defined it as the 'inconsolable longing' in the human heart for 'we know not what'. It seems rather German to be able to specify the unspecifiable. The longing for something - or, in our case, for someone.

Her future, she thought, was likely to be worse than her past, for after her years of contented renunciation, she had slipped back into desire and longing; she found joyless days of distasteful occupation harder and harder; she found the image of the intense and varied life she yearned for, and despaired of, becoming more and more importunate.

Things are sweeter when they're lost. I know--because once I wanted something and got it. It was the only thing I ever wanted badly, Dot, and when I got it it turned to dust in my hand.

However gnawing a deficiency, satiety is worse... We are meant to be hungry.

Not merely hope, but any burdensome yearning: ambition, hatred, love (especially love) - how rarely do our emotions meet the object they seem to deserve? How hopelessly we signal; how dark the sky; how big the waves. We are all lost at see, washed between hope and despair, hailing something that may never come to rescue us. Catastrophe has become art; but this is no reducing process. It is freeing, enlarging, explaining. Catastrophe has become art: that is, after all, what it is for.

Why is the place where I want to be so often so far from where I am?