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