Fantasy mirrors desire. Imagination reshapes it.
The desire to be significant casts a pall.
When I try to portray to myself my heart's desire, nothing happens.
Smiling half-reluctance seems to promise more than the frankest gesture of desire.
Make the expectations lively enough, and action will follow.
My thought has been shaped by books; my desires by pictures.
Altruism is for those who cannot endure their desires.
The extravagance of intellect outstrips the extravagance of desire.
The desire to perform impedes conversation.
In the street, the gaze of desire is furtive or menacing.
When sages commend excess, Desire is sick.
Dreams surround our desires with ugliness and dread.
Dreams are distorted representations of desire. So are dream- analyses.
I dream of vague shapes that hint of my heart's desire.
As desire recedes, the world becomes clear, pale, and empty.
Yearning wants mostly to perpetuate itself.
Rebuttals never alter desire.
Shameless: Punish me for my desire if you will. It burns still.
The cues that arouse desire are changed by Fashion, but feel like the proddings of Nature.
I am kept in bondage by the moles of my beloved.
Desire is wakeful; satisfaction dozes.
My intentions go one way, my desires another. Thus I feel both self-indulgent and deprived.
Sexual attraction keeps throwing self-interest off course.
Seek and Hide: the Lover gazes at the Beloved. The Beloved looks away. The Beloved turns and looks at the Lover. The Lover runs away.
Habit keeps my life going, with occasional pushes from desire.
