Not Wanting Me Quotes & Sayings

I know I've broken all the rules of all the games, that all the great players and best love calculators recommend that you play, if you want to make someone like you a lot. But that's okay, because I give up. I've got my coffee sitting in my San Francisco cup, I've got Kona island and a working beating heart that's not cold, hard, or numb - very workable and capable of loving, breaking, mending and repeating. So that's just what I'll do. Because I'm too tired. Too tired uping all nighting wasting my precious timing wishing it was your heart pumping, wanting me - like I used to want you. — Coco J. Ginger

If I keep looking at her long legs I'm gonna have an accident. "How's that sister of yours?" I ask, changing the subject.
"She's waiting to beat you again at checkers."
"Is that right? Well, tell her I was goin' easy on her. I was tryin' to impress you."
"By losing?"
I shrug. "It worked, didn't it?"
I notice her fidgeting with her dress as if she needs to fix it to impress me. Wanting to ease her anxiety, I slide my fingers down her arm before capturing her hand in mine.
"You tell Shelley I'll be back for a rematch," I say.
She turns to me, her blue eyes sparkling. "Really?"
"Absolutely."
During the drive, I try and make small talk. It doesn't work. I'm not a small talk kind of guy. It's a good thing Brittany seems content without talking. — Simone Elkeles

Sarah Lynn strides out of the stairwell. Lawrence watches her go. The door slushes shut behind her, and he turns to me with a tightened jaw. I want to tell him: No, no, you've got it all wrong. I don't care if you kiss a white girl. I don't care if you love a white girl. I just wish you'd chosen a white girl worthy of your love.
Lawrence's Adam's apple jerks up and down, and I realize that in addition to whatever else he's feeling, he's scared. He's in love with the darling of the school, Sarah Lynn Lancaster, ad he's afriad I'll expose his secret. I give a tiny shake of my head, wanting him to know he has nothing to fear, not from me. — Lauren Myracle

It's flattering if people think I'm attractive. If it helps, great, but it's not going to get in the way of me wanting to win. That's what I'm all about. — Lorrie Fair

Sydney, don't leave Adrian because of me."
"It's more complicated than that," I said automatically.
"It's really not," she said. "From everything I've seen and heard, you're just afraid. You've always controlled every detail of your life. When you couldn't-like with the Alchemists-you found a way to seize back that control."
"There is nothing wrong with wanting control," I snapped.
"Except that we can't always have it, and sometimes that is a good thing. A great thing, even," she added. "And that's how it is with Adrian. No matter how hard you try, you aren't going to be able to control your feelings for him. You can't help loving him, and so you're running away. I'm just an excuse. — Richelle Mead

I began to turn my body, but he held me and laid me back onto the bed, insistently, kissing my breasts but not lingering, kissing a line down my stomach and lower. "You want me to prove to you that I want you more than I've ever wanted anything in my life, Roses. Is that true, aye? Because I just can't take this anymore."
I gasped as he licked into my sensitive flesh, wetting me with his soft strokes, speaking soft words against my skin. "If you insist on doubting me, Roses, if you absolutely insist on breaking down every defense that I have with your tears and your plush, wet, ripe beauty, then that's what I'll have to do, lass. Is that what you want from me? Proof?"
I could only sigh a soft response, already falling, burning, wanting too much. — Juliette Miller

A lot of people who do drama say comedy is the hardest thing, but, not wanting to sound like a bighead, comedy is easy for me, as I've always been fairly funny. — Nick Frost

As long as I stared at the clock, at least the world remained in motion. Not a very consequential world, but in motion nonetheless. And as long as I knew the world was still in motion, I knew I existed. Not a very consequential existence, but an existence nonetheless. It struck me as wanting that someone should confirm his own existence only by the hands of an electric wall clock. There had to be a more cognitive means of confirmation. But try as I might, nothing less facile came to mind. — Haruki Murakami

Men wanted me. They all did, however briefly, but none of them wanted to keep me. That's what I needed. I needed to be owned, loved. BUT NOT BY A MAN. I knew then that I never needed to be kept by a man. What I needed was to love myself, to want to keep myself around. And in that revelation, I knew that if I wanted to keep myself, that a man wanting to keep me would just be a by-product. — Fisher Amelie

What I want to say is that we still don't know each other, that we're still discovering each other, and of course because it's no longer the beginning it isn't always, or even mostly, a romantic proposition--the not knowing, the wanting to know--but there is the wanting. Certainly there are times when I think maybe it's one-sided, that he knows just about all of me that he cares to, and that I'm the one who's still deciphering, which can be its own source of resentment. — Adam Haslett

It's not that students don't "get" Kafka's humor but that we've taught them to see humor as something you get
the same way we've taught them that a self is something you just have. No wonder they cannot appreciate the really central Kafka joke
that the horrific struggle to establish a human self results in a self whose humanity is inseparable from that horrific struggle. That our endless and impossible journey toward home is in fact our home. It's hard to put into words up at the blackboard, believe me. You can tell them that maybe it's good they don't "get" Kafka. You can ask them to imagine his art as a kind of door. To envision us readers coming up and pounding on this door, pounding and pounding, not just wanting admission but needing it, we don't know what it is but we can feel it, this total desperation to enter, pounding and pushing and kicking, etc. That, finally, the door opens ... and it opens outward: we've been inside what we wanted all along. Das ist komisch. — David Foster Wallace

It was weird to hear Grace this way. It was weird to be here, sitting in my car with her best friend when Grace was home, needing me for once. It was weird to want to tell her that we didn't need to go to the studio until things calmed down. But I couldn't tell her no. I physically couldn't say it to her. Hearing her like this ... she was a different thing than I'd ever seen her be, and I felt some dangerous and lovely future whispering secrets in my ear. I said, "I wish it were Sunday, too."
"I don't want to be alone tonight," Grace said.
Something in my heart twinged. I closed my eyes for a moment and opened them again. I thought about sneaking over myself; I thought about telling her to sneak out. I imagined lying in my bedroom beneath my paper cranes, with the warm shape of her tucked against me, not having to worry about hiding in the morning, just having her with me on our terms, and I ached and ached some more with the force of wanting it. I echoed, "I miss you, too. — Maggie Stiefvater

Paul's wanting does not hinge on anything other than the fact of me. This is an excellent trait in a man. — Elisa Albert

Don't do that. Don't make any part of this about me not wanting you, because you know that's bullshit," I warned him. "Okay." "I will be all over you if that's what you want." "Yes," he croaked out. "That's what I fuckin' want." I lunged at him, hugging him tight, crushing him against me as I pressed my lips to his ear. "I love you, Ian Doyle. Only you, and every time you go away it fuckin' kills me. I don't ever want to us to be apart. — Mary Calmes

I've been wanting to do that for a very long time," I growled
Victor smiled through the pain and the blood. "Of course you have. I used to think Belikov was the savage one, but it's really you, isn't it? You're the animal with no control, no higher reasoning except to fight and kill."
I clenched his shirt and leaned him over him. "Me? I'm not the one who tortured Lissa for my own benefit. I'm not the one who turned my daughter Strigoi. And I'm sure as hell not the one who used compulsion to kidnap a fifteen-year-old girl! — Richelle Mead

I don't blame folks for not wanting to put me in their movies or whatever. I understand if their audiences had an association with me. — Joseph Gordon-Levitt

Will you be wanting to contest the divorce?" I asked Mrs. Davis. "I should think not," she said calmly, "although I suppose on of us should, for the fun of the thing. An uncontested divorce always seems to me contrary to the spirit of divorce. — Donald Barthelme

How can you possibly hope to reform her after the life she's been leading?'
'It's not her I'm wanting to reform - it's me,' he replied. 'Besides, it's taking me into a world where I can do some good.'
'I can't imagine you happy.'
'That's not the point.'
'Of course it isn't. But if she has a heart, she can't be happy either. She can't want you to do that.'
'No, she doesn't.'
'I see. But life ... '
'What about life?'
'Life demands something different.'
'Life only wants us to do the right things,' said Nekhlyudov.
-Resurrection — Leo Tolstoy

He tightened his arms, not wanting Ty to move away. "It's more than just fucking around now," he said. "Isn't it?" He made sure the tone of his voice emphasized that it wasn't really a question. Ty was motionless in response. He didn't even seem to be breathing. The silence stretched on, edging toward tension. Finally, he let out his breath quietly and lowered his head. "No," he lied blithely, just as he'd done in a hotel in New York City over a year ago. Zane chuckled. A classic Grady response, and definitely the one he preferred to hear. A "yes" just might have given him a heart attack. He held Ty close. "You owe me." "Owe you?" Ty repeated in a rough, questioning voice as Zane felt his heartbeat begin to speed up. "Mm hmm. How I've wanted you," Zane breathed. "It scares the hell out of me." "I know," Ty murmured as he turned in place and nuzzled against Zane's neck. — Abigail Roux

Take the Long Way Home is a song that I wrote that's on two levels - on one level I'm talking about not wanting to go home to the wife, 'take the long way home' because she treats you like part of the furniture. But there's a deeper level to the song, too. I really believe we all want to find our true home, find that place in us where we feel at home, and to me, home is in the heart. When we're in touch with our heart and we're living our life from our heart, then we do feel like we found our home. — Roger Hodgson

Thank you," he said when he released me. "For coming with me. For not giving me shit about wanting to see my parents." "I have most definitely given you shit." "Then thank you for giving me minimal shit. — Amy Tintera

When I left home, I was going to ride around a little while and then go to my mom's. As I rode and rode and rode, I felt even more anxiety coming upon me about not wanting to live — Susan Smith

I know if i told her about liking guys, she'd probably stop wanting to date me, which would be a huge plus. but i also know i'd immediately become her gay pet, and that's the last kind of leash i want. and it's not like i'm really that gay. i fucking hate madonna. — David Levithan

The heart fires off warning flares when something's not right - and hell if they aren't exploding in mine right now - but how the fuck do I stop wanting someone I know was made for me?
The answer's a clear-cut, jagged piece of glass. One I'm sure is gonna bleed me the fuck out at the end . . .
I can't. — Gail McHugh

He kissed me tenderly as my heart thumped out of control. My fingers slipped into his thick, black hair and held tightly. He paused, not wanting to pull away. I didn't let him. I was going to say goodbye properly. I held tightly, pressing my lips to his, soft at first then hard with desire. — Leigh Goff

I felt despair. The word's overused and banalified now, despair, but it's a serious word, and I'm using it seriously. For me it denotes a simple admixture - a weird yearning for death combined with a crushing sense of my own smallness and futility that presents as a fear of death. It's maybe close to what people call dread or angst. But it's not these things, quite. It's more like wanting to die in order to escape the unbearable feeling of becoming aware that I'm small and weak and selfish and going without any doubt at all to die. It's wanting to jump overboard. — David Foster Wallace

Wanting to kill myself is was an appropriate and reasonable response to a whole series of unfortunate events that had rendered life unlivable. Oh, yes, I know the shrinks would say that they could have helped, but that's half the trouble with this bloody country, isn't it? No one's willing to face their responsibilities. It's always someone else's fault. Boo hoo hoo. Well, I happen to be one of those rare individuals who believe that what went on with Mummy and Daddy had nothing to do with me screwing a fifteen-year-old. I happen to believe that I would have slept with her regardless of whether I'd been breast-fed or not, and it was time to face up to what I'd done. — Nick Hornby

I don't love any of my old boyfriends anymore. I'm not sure I ever did, and I'm not sure if at the time I thought I was sure. My mother says that's normal, that men are proud of every one of their conquests, and women wish they could forget it all. She says that's an essential gender difference, and I can't say I disprove her theory. What keeps me from full revulsion, from wanting the sexual equivalent of an annulment, is thinking about what I got from each one that I still hold on to now. — Lena Dunham

I'm not some sex addict trying to sort myself out. I don't get a high from fucking everything that walks. I get a high from wanting someone as much as I want you. From actually thinking that for once ... for once in my life someone actually cares enough to cry because they think they've messed me up. — Charlotte Stein

Me - not wanting to admit that I just let him use me again.
Him - not wanting to admit that it was more than just sex.
Both of us lying to ourselves. — Colleen Hoover

I leaned forward, but Todd lifted a hand to stop me. "There's one more thing I've been meaning to tell you all day."
"What is it?" I asked impatiently, not able to keep from staring at his mouth.
He took his time, drawing in a slow inhale and then letting it out just as slowly. "You," he finally whispered, running a finger across my chin, "absolutely take my breath away."
It was right then that I knew, down to my curling toes and thumping heart, that I had made the correct decision, maybe the most correct decision ever to be made in the history of decision-making. I reached for him, torn between wanting to stare into his incredible green eyes and an almost painful desire to kiss him.
Naturally, we kissed. And kissed. — Ophelia London

I don't like feeling sorry for myself. That's not who I am. And most of the time I don't feel that way. Instead, I am grateful for having at least found you. We could have flashed by one another like two pieces of cosmic dust.
God or the universe or whatever one chooses to label the great systems of balance and order does not recognize Earth-time. To the universe, four days is no different than four billion light years. I try to keep that in mind.
But, I am, after all, a man. And all the philosophic rationalizations I can conjure up do not keep me from wanting you, every day, every moment, the merciless wail of time, of time I can never spend with you, deep within my head.
I love you, profoundly and completely. And I always will.
The last cowboy,
Robert — Robert James Waller

Tate practically raised you from what I hear. You love him, don't you?"
Her face closed up. "For all the good it will ever do me, yes," she said softly.
"He won't have the excuse of pure Lakota blood much longer," he advised.
"I'm not holding out for miracles anymore," she vowed. "I'm going to stop wanting what I can never have. From now on, I'll take what I can get from life and be satisfied with it. Tate will have to find his own way."
"That's sour grapes," he observed.
"You bet it is. What do you want me to do to help?"
"It's dangerous," he pointed out, hesitating as he considered her youth. "I don't know ... "
"I'm a card-carrying archeologist," she reminded him. "Haven't you ever watched an Indiana Jones movies? We're all like that," she told him with a wicked grin. "Mild-mannered on the outside and veritable world-tamers inside. I can get a whip and a fedora, too, if you like," she added. — Diana Palmer

."I shouldn't want you. I'm not good enough for you. I know it and you know it. But that doesn't stop me from wanting you. Just being near you... You bring me peace, beauty," he says in a soft unwavering tone, briefly resting his forehead against mine. — Chantal Fernando

Please forgive me for fighting against us, Gavin. Please forgive me for not fighting for us when I knew we were supposed to be together. Forgive me for being the weak mess I am. But more than anything ... thank you for loving me. Thank you for your dimpled smile and your bottle caps. I'll never be able to look at one without thinking of you. Thank you for your stupid Yankees and your wiseass remarks. Thank you for wanting late night drives and sunset-watching with me. Thank you for wanting the good, the bad, and the in-between. — Gail McHugh

I guess you don't believe that a king would talk to someone like me, a shepherd," he said, wanting to end the conversation. "Not at all. It was shepherds who were the first to recognize a king that the rest of the world refused to acknowledge. So, it's not surprising that kings would talk to shepherds." And — Paulo Coelho

I'm just being selfish ... I'm here on my own free will ... I used to always cry and give up ... I nearly went the wrong way ... But you ... You showed me the right way ... I was always chasing you ... Wanting to overtake you ... I just wanted to walk with you ... I wanted to be with you ... You changed me! Your smile saved me! So I'm not afraid to die protecting you!!! Because I
Love You ... — Masashi Kishimoto

People who were only ever half right about things drove me mad. I hated the flood of opinion, the certainty, the easy talk about Cuba and Russia and the economy, because beneath the hard structure of words was an abyss of ignorance and not-knowing; and, in a sense, of not wanting to know. — Hanif Kureishi

You asked what I wanted and I'm not going to lie to you. What I want most is the naked truth. I want to strip away every stubborn layer until you're bared to me. And then I'm going to show you how to love right. — Nadege Richards

Either the gods have power or they don't. If they don't,
why pray? If they do, then why not pray for something else
instead of for things to happen or not to happen? Pray not to
feel fear. Or desire, or grief. If the gods can do anything, they
can surely do that for us. - But those are things the gods left up to me.
Then isn't it better to do what's up to you - like a free man
- than to be passively controlled by what isn't, like a slave
or beggar? And what makes you think the gods don't care
about what's up to us?
Start praying like this and you'll see.
Not "some way to sleep with her" - but a way to stop
wanting to.
Not "some way to get rid of him" - but a way to stop
trying.
Not "some way to save my child" - but a way to lose your
fear.
Redirect your prayers like that, and watch what happens. — Marcus Aurelius

And what is love, Angel? What is love! he yelled. Is it a pressure inside that makes me want to scream when you do this? he palmed his chest roughly, Is it my body in constant chaos when you're around me? Is it murder in cold blood when I even think of you being with anybody but me! he roared. Or maybe it's not being able to think or speak when your life is in danger, or wanting to spend every second - of every - fucking day with you, wanting to never leave your side. Is that love? Is it, Isadore? He drew closer and hit his fist repeatedly against his chest. Is it pain so hard and heavy that I can't fucking breathe unless I smell you, touch you, taste you? His body heaved as his bright green gaze seared her heart. Because if it is, Angel...he held his lips together and shook his head slowly, then I am....slain with an eternal and violent love for you. — Lucian Bane

If you don't look at me right this minute, Brody McTavish, I'm going to ---"
He swung on her. Had she not been standing flatfooted she would have stumbled back. Instead, she was rooted to the ground as suddenly he was in her face. "I've been listening to you and I've been looking at you for years," he said, his voice deep and thick with emotion. "I've been waiting for you to grow up." His voice faltered as he dropped his horse's reins. "Because I've been wanting to do this since you were sixteen."
Grabbing her, he pulled her against his rock-hard body. His mouth dropped to hers. Her lips parted of their own accord, just as her arms wrapped around his neck. Her heart hammered against her ribs as he deepened the kiss and she heard herself moan. — B. J. Daniels

I wasn't sure which of us was being more selfish - her, for wanting something that no one could promise, or me, for not promising her something that was too painfully impossible to want. — Maggie Stiefvater

It occurred to me then that a lot of life was either about wanting and not having, or having and not wanting. — Deb Caletti

As a functional Aspergian adult, one thing troubles me deeply about those kids who end up behind the second door. Many descriptions of autism and Asperger's describe people like me as "not wanting contact with others" or "preferring to play alone." I can't speak for other kids, but I'd like to be very clear about my own feelings: I did not ever want to be alone. And all those child psychologists who said "John prefers to play by himself" were dead wrong. I played by myself because I was a failure at playing with others. I was alone as a result of my own limitations, and being alone was one of the bitterest disappointments of my young life. — John Elder Robison

When he touches me, I feel like everywhere his skin meets mine is changed by the connection. It sends a thrill through my stomach. Not just fear. Something else, too. A wanting. — Veronica Roth

Quite honestly I never had a desire to be an actor. I tell people, I did not choose acting; acting chose me. I never grew up wanting to be an actor. I wanted to play football. In about 9th grade an English teacher told me I had a talent to act. He said I should audition for a performing arts high school so I did on a whim. I got accepted. — Ving Rhames

There's a towel wrapped around his waist, and it's the only thing he's wearing. It's the first thing that catches my eye, and it doesn't bode well for me. A flush suffuses my skin. My gaze travels up the sharp V of his pelvis, and my mouth dries. His smooth, dark skin is in sharp contrast against the towel, and I feel a strange itching sensation in my hand; a nagging feeling of wanting to touch every inch of him. And that's not even taking into account his body. My eyes move over his abdomen - practically an eight pack - up to his defined pecs, solid deltoids, and firm triceps. — Alison Hendricks

Do you have any idea how much you mean to me Layla? Any at all? Because I
sometimes think, if you did, you wouldn't keep torturing me like this. I can't keep watching you with him. The way you gaze into his eyes, the way he
kisses you and when you tell him you love him, I hate you. I hate you for loving him. I hate you for choosing him. I hate you for wanting him so badly.
But mostly, I hate myself for not being him! I can't hide it anymore. I've tried so fucking hard that I swear I'm going crazy sometimes. It's eating at me.
I can't sleep, can't think; I can't even function because I'm thinking about you so much. But I get it, I do, it's him you want and from now on I'm hands
off. But I have to let you know how I feel before I go nuts. — Marie Coulson

It felt to me like America was always wanting to resolve things too quickly, without thinking through what the costs and consequences would be and how that affects an individual living in that world. Then as I grew up and went about my life, I think I just got more and more interested in that gray area where things are not so easily quantified. — Robert Redford

I've been trying not to think about the things I wanted but couldn't have.
I figured life must be about what you can't have.
Some part of me has given up wanting anything.
Why? I'm human, aren't I?
Even though I knew that this was pointless.
Why did I fall in love? — Kou Yoneda

I continued down the hallway, past the library, with my eyes downcast, not wanting to talk to anyone. So immersed was I in my misery that I recoiled at the sound of a male voice emanating from just a few paces in front of me.
"I know feet are fascinating, Alera, but it's much more sensible to pay attention to where you're going."
Steldor stood outside the door to our quarters wearing a cocky and irritating grin, and for the thousandth time that day, I felt myself turning crimson. I stared at him, struggling for a witty rejoinder but unable to produce one.
"Did you want something, my lord?" I finally asked, forcing a smile that felt like a grimace.
"I simply wanted to see my beautiful wife," he said, countenance still smug, although his eyes had softened and I suspected the compliment was sincere. — Cayla Kluver

Emma: I tried so hard.
Jules: In the battle? Emma, you did everything you could ...
Emma: Not in the battle. To make you not love me. I tried.
Jules: Is it that awful? Having me love you?
Emma: It was the best thing in the world. And then it was the worst. And I didn't even have a chance ...
Jules: You're going to have to learn to live with it. Even if it horrifies you. Even if it makes you sick. Just like I'm going to have to live with whatever other boyfriend you have, because we are forever no matter how, Emma, no matter what you want to call what we have, we will always be us.
Emma: There won't be any other boyfriends. What you said before, about thinking and obsessing and wanting only one thing. That's how I fel you you.
Jules, say somethin, please...
Jules: Julian. I want you to call me Julian. Only ever that. — Cassandra Clare

I spent a month in India and where I learnt an important word for me, for everything that had come before and after, and the was the word 'seva' - the work you do without wanting reward, simply for the work itself, for the spiritual, for the practice and the experience it gives you by doing that work. I began to realise it was something I was searching for all my life, that I was doing theatre not for myself but for something for a search, for a seeking for something that is behind that, to find a truth somewhere about us. — George Ogilvie

If only seeing your own life
The way you should
Were easy,
But it's not.
I wouldn't have spent
So much time
Wishing
Things were different.
I wouldn't have spent
So much time
Worrying
About not being normal.
I wouldn't have spent
So much time
Writing
About wanting something new.
I wanted....
To somehow change
"Something,"
But the only thing
That really needed to change
Was
The way
I thought
About
Me..... — Nancy J Cavanaugh

Maybe you just haven't found the right girl yet?" I say softly not wanting him to give up. Saxon's eyes meet mine, "maybe she just hasn't found me yet." - Stephanie Smith, Wherever You Will Go — Stephanie Smith

I'm not ashamed of wanting you. And yes, I've missed touching you, and holding you, and I want that again. But that isn't all I've missed about you since you left town." He placed his palms on the sides of her face, bringing her gaze back to his. "I've missed the way you glance around when you think your karma is going to zap you. I miss watching you walk and the way you push your hair behind your ears. I miss the sound of your voice, and that you try to be a vegetarian and can't. I miss that you believe you're a pacifist even as you shock me on the arm. I've missed everything about you, Gabrielle. — Rachel Gibson

But a planet can also become dark because of "too strong a desire for security ... the greatest evil there is." Meg resists her father's analysis. What's wrong with wanting to be safe? Mr. Murry insists that "lust for security" forces false choices and a panicked search for safety and conformity. This reminded me that my grandmother would get very annoyed when anyone would talk about "the power of love." Love, she insisted, is not power, which she considered always coercive. To love is to be vulnerable; and it is only in vulnerability and risk - not safety and security - that we overcome darkness. — Madeleine L'Engle

If I were on my own, packing some power, and for some reason not wanting to be found, I might lay low for a while. But I'd know sooner or later I'd have to come out and play, because whoever's looking for me would eventually find me. I'd start building some connections. The thing about a lone wolf? Once you corner it, it has no one to turn to. — Ilona Andrews

Much more than trying to focus on the battlefield of the war, it was the central place that German doctors occupied within Nazism, the omnipotent and insane idea of wanting to generically modify an entire nation. This idea was not on the outskirts of Nazi ideology, it was the heart of movement, that's what intrigued me. Mengele is the most extreme expression of this idea. — Lucia Puenzo

Only yesterday a young woman came to me wanting a trap set for a man with a sweet smile and lithe arms. She was a fool, not for wanting him, but for wanting more of him than that. — Patricia A. McKillip

On the very last day of shooting [of The Last King of Scotlang], I remember wanting to get the [Idi Amin] character out of me right away, as much as I could. You literally take a bath to wash him off you. Luckily, I went into another part not so long afterwards, so I was kind of able to push it away a little bit. But speech patterns, and little sounds, particularly colloquial things, like the way you ask questions or might respond, were sticking with me, probably because I'd worked so hard to make it a part of my everyday way of expressing myself. — Forest Whitaker

Oh Beck, I love reading your e-mail. Learning your life. And I am careful; I always mark new messages unread so that you won't get alarmed. My good fortune doesn't stop there; You prefer e-mail. You don't like texting. So this means that I am not missing out on all that much communication. You wrote an "essay" for some blog in which you stated that "e-mails last forever. You can search for any word at any time and see everything you ever said to anyone about that one word. Texts go away." I love you for wanting a record. I love your records for being so accessible and I'm so full of you, your calendar of caloric intake and hookups and menstrual moments, your self-portraits you don't publish, your recipes and exercises. You will know me soon too, I promise. — Caroline Kepnes

Rush? not in the least. I take it uncommon easy." "Ah I'm bound to say you do!" Mrs. Nettlepoint returned with inconsequence. I guessed at a certain tension between the pair and a want of consideration on the young man's part, arising perhaps from selfishness. His mother was nervous, in suspense, wanting to be at rest as to whether she should have his company on the voyage or be obliged to struggle alone. But as he stood there smiling and slowly moving his fan he struck me somehow as a person on whom this fact wouldn't sit too heavily. He was of the type of those whom other people worry about, not of those who worry about other people. Tall and strong, — Henry James

Again, I whisper.
The corner of his mouth lifts, and then I kiss him. Not so gently this time. His hands drop from my face and grab my waist and pull me to him. A small soft groan excapes him, and that noise makes me feel absolutely crazy. I lose it. I wind my hands around his neck and kiss him without holding anything back. I can feel his heart thundering like mine, his breath coming faster, his arms tightening around me.
And then I can feel what he feels. He's waited for this moment. He loves how I feel in his arms. He loves the smell of my hair. He loves the way I looked at him just now, flushed and wanting more from him. He loves the color of my lips and now the taste of my mouth is making his knees feel weak and he doesn't want to seem weak in front of me. So i draw back, and his breath comes out in a rush. His arms drop away from me. — Cynthia Hand

The conventional wisdom with David Mamet is, you do not change a word. And that agrees with me. If you want to change any of David's words, it's like wanting to change the iambic pentameter in Shakespeare - you should do something else. — John C. McGinley

This was sheer idleness to my fellow-townsmen, no doubt; but if the birds and flowers had tried me by their standard, I should not have been found wanting. A man must find his occasions in himself, it is true. The natural day is very calm, and will hardly reprove his indolence. — Henry David Thoreau

The unnamed man's nose flared in insult as he thought to himself while the pig named Corbin prattled on. He disgusts me with his gluttonous sweat and fearful stink. He is like a swine, plumped up for the slaughter, but none I would like to eat. He sits across the table from me wheedling, desiring, wanting more and more and more. He wants assurances of safety, he wants money, he want, he wants, he wants... I am close, but not quite ready, to lean across and slit his jowls with a second smile, stand up and leave. But that is not my job...not yet. — Clifton Hill

You may thank God you didn't want to be an actor, Tom, because you would have been a very bad one. You worked it out at Thanksgiving, I guess, when you were all together. And it's working smooth as butter. I see Will's hand in this. Don't tell me if you don't want to."
"I wasn't in favor of it," said Tom.
"It doesn't sound like you," his father said. "You'd be for scattering the truth out in the sun for me to see. Don't tell the others I know." He turned away and then came back and put his hand on Tom's shoulder. "Thank you for wanting to honor me with the truth, my son. It's not clever but it's more permanent. — John Steinbeck

It's just that without wanting to or trying to - and for years I was deliberately trying not to - I held on to love. Or it held on to me. Not active love; not love, the verb form. It was more just there, a small, unshakable thing, leftover, useless, as vestigial as wisdom teeth or a tailbone, but still potent enough so that when I heard his voice on the phone, my heart gave a tiny jump of hope that made me want to slap it. — Marisa De Los Santos

That weird feeling of wanting to be found and not wanting to be found stuck with me. — Cassandra Rose Clarke

There's not a day I live that doesn't start with me getting up and first saying, "What can I do for somebody else?" Whether that means sending something to one of my children or picking up the phone and calling a stranger who is in the hospital, I start every day by wanting more for others than I do for myself. — Wayne Dyer

My days were not days of the week, bearing the stamp of any heathen deity, nor were they minced into hours and fretted by the ticking of a clock; for I lived like the Puri Indians, of whom it is said that "for yesterday, today, and tomorrow they have only one word, and they express the variety of meaning by pointing backward for yesterday forward for tomorrow, and overhead for the passing day." This was sheer idleness to my fellow-townsmen, no doubt; but if the birds and flowers had tried me by their standard, I should not have been found wanting. — Henry David Thoreau

The night was waiting for me as always. And my thirst could wait no longer. I stood for a moment, head thrown back, eyes closed, and mouth open, feeling that thirst, and wanting to roar like a hungry beast. Yes, blood again when there is nothing else. When the world seems in all its beauty to be empty and heartless and I myself am utterly lost. Give me my old friend, death, and the blood that rushes with it. The Vampire Lestat is here, and he thirsts, and tonight of all nights, he will not be denied. — Anne Rice

Sometimes I feel like there's a hole inside of me, an emptiness that at times seems to burn. I think if you lifted my heart to your ear, you could probably hear the ocean. The moon tonight, there's a circle around it. Sign of trouble not far behind. I have this dream of being whole. Of not going to sleep each night, wanting. But still sometimes, when the wind is warm or the crickets sing... I dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for. I just want someone to love me. I want to be seen. I don't know. Maybe I had my happiness. I don't want to believe it but, there is no man, Gilly. Only that moon. — Alice Hoffman

It took a long while for me to know that I'm beautiful. I remember going through this phase when I was younger of wanting to pass by mirrors and not look at them. That was so ridiculous. I've learned now that beauty starts from within. — Kelly Rowland

As much as I want you and want to be with you and part of you, I can't tear myself away from the realness of my responsibilities. If you force me, physically or mentally, to go with you, as I said earlier, I cannot fight that. I don't have the strength, given my feelings for you. In spite of what I said about not taking the road away from you, I'd go because of my own selfish wanting of you. But please don't make me. Don't make me give this up, my responsibilities. I cannot do that and live with the thought of it. If I did leave now, those thoughts would turn me into something other than the woman you have come to love — Robert James Waller

Because way back before you were even born there was this girl you see. And I fell in love with her. It was something that I wanted-love-not because it was expected of me, but because I found it out my self-that happiness of wanting to be with that other person. — Marianne Wiggins

The truth a fairly important thing to hold on to when you've been pulled out of the sea after wanting to drown in it. I could've let the sea take me. I could easily be dead now, which is funny when you think of it. When I say funny, what I actually mean is weird and kind of disturbing.
When there's the loud sound of a siren screaming in your head it doesn't take too long before a feeling of not caring what happens washed over you and you become recklessly self- destructive. I used to be full of energy and happiness but I could barely remember those kinds of feelings. The cheerful, childish things I used to think had been replaced. A whole load of new realisations had begun to grow inside me like tangled weeds, and they were starting to kill me. That's why I'd make the decision that involved heading ogg to the pier on my pike in the middle of the night and cycling off it. — Sarah Moore Fitzgerald

To cast in my lot with Jekyll, was to die to those appetites which I had long secretly indulged and had of late begun to pamper. To cast it in with Hyde, was to die to a thousand interests and aspirations, and to become, at a blow and forever, despised and friendless. The bargain might appear unequal; but there was still another consideration in the scales; for while Jekyll would suffer smartingly in the fires of abstinence, Hyde would be not even conscious of all that he had lost. Strange as my circumstances were, the terms of this debate are as old and commonplace as man; much the same inducements and alarms cast the die for any tempted and trembling sinner; and it fell out with me, as it falls with so vast a majority of my fellows, that I chose the better part and was found wanting in the strength to keep to it. — Robert Louis Stevenson

Mrs. Faulkner had sidled up to me and said Good day, Mrs. Elliot?
I just looked at her, and I saw in her eyes that she was wanting some kind of approval for her boy because of his career ahead, and she suddenly just looked like an old lady, not fancy and rich and frightening. An old lady whose son admired my husband, and who herself would be as helpless in the Territories as a newborn calf and not nearly as useful. Good day, I said back. It is a funny thing how much more proud people can be of themselves if they never step back and take a good look in a glass. — Nancy E. Turner

She expected a lot of me. When I was in fourth grade working on a book report, she made me start the whole thing over when she read it and said it was barely even legible. "What's wrong with it?" I asked her. "It's not good enough yet. You have to try harder," she said, her voice gentle. "You have to try hard at everything you do. That's all I ask." I rolled my eyes and revised it, and over time her approach wore off on me and I became like her too - wanting to do my best, expecting my best. — Daisy Whitney

She was wary, trained to expect little of life, grateful for small pleasures, on her guard against promises, accustomed to making the best of things, in the habit of both wanting and not daring to want something more. Now Miracle Polish has come along, with its air of swagger and its taunting little whisper. Why not? it seemed to say. Why on earth not? But the mirrors that strengthened me, that filled me with new life, made Monica bristle. Did she feel that I preferred a false version of her, a glittering version, to the flesh-and-blood Monica with her Band-Aids and big knees and her burden of sorrows? What drew me was exactly the opposite. In the shining mirrors I saw the true Monica, the hidden Monica, the Monica buried beneath years of discouragement. Far from escaping into a world of polished illusions, I was able to see, in the depths of those mirrors, the world no longer darkened by diminishing hopes and fading dreams. There, all was clear, all was possible. — Steven Millhauser

If what I feel for you is dislike -- for coming between me and my work sometime every day in the last fifteen months --if that's dislike...If being unable to forget your voice, or the way you turn your neck, or the lights in your hair -- if that's dislike...If wanting to hear that you're married and dreading to hear that you're married...If resenting the condescension that pretends you're not out of my reach...Perhaps you can identify these symptoms for me. — Winston Graham

At the brunch, I told her I had been in Alaska a few months earlier. And she opened her mouth wide in a look of genuine surprise, as if no one had ever gone to Alaska before. "Why didn't you look me up?" she said, again sounding sincere. I made a joke about not wanting to get shot. She made me promise to look her up in Wasilla next time. (How does one "look up" Sarah Palin in Alaska, anyway? Is she listed? Can we become texting buddies?) — Mark Leibovich

Before entering into any kind of intimate relationships, whether friendship, familial re-connection, or romance, the idea of "needing" or "being needed" must be eliminated. It's harmful to me and others. Need is no kind of foundation for anything. Rather, I choose to be wanted. "Want" is a deliberate choice. Wanting is not based in fear or ego (which are one in the same, I believe). Want comes from recognition of someone else's goodness and loving them for it. Being wanted is unconditional. It does not require emotional games be played, it does not require reparations be made or obligations be met. Being wanted is good, in and of itself. — Jennifer DeLucy

I would say most people assume that I'm not very smart or educated or earnest, because I have this image that I'm sort of narcissistic, chasing attention, and wanting people to like me. It makes me laugh because I've done plenty of interviews and when you read the article from beginning to end you can see that I'm not your typical music video model. — Megan Fox

But even writing the column for the 'Telegraph,' that idea of working to deadlines, which as an actor that's not something you have to do in the same way. It's excited me into wanting to do a bit more. — Dan Stevens

In that moment, I wanted to cut out all my sins from my body and lay them down upon the earth before you. Like pieces of bark they are rough and dead, once clutching onto my very skin, all a part of me. You make me want to strip myself bare and lay myself out to you, I want you to see all my flaws, I want you to know I am not beautiful, yet all the while wanting you to take me anyway. I am composed of things that are dead, I am not a tree, I do not give life, I am just bark, flaws, stitched together with hope for something more. I wish for love, I wish for more. — Joshua Allen

To me, I definitely stand in the corner of wanting to give voice to the bullied, and not the bully. — Mike White

I only inched the tip in, but dammit to fucking hell if you milking the head of my cock doesn't have me wanting to blow my load. Do not fucking move your tight pussy one tenth of a centimeter until I can stop myself. Fuck! — Charisse Spiers

It's at that moment that I can't help myself,even though she maybe hates me right now.I pull her in and kiss her the way I've always wanted to kiss her,a lot more R-rated and PG-13.I can feel her tense at first,not wanting to kiss me back ,and the thought of it breaks my heart.Before I can pull away,I feel her bend and then melt into me as I melt into her under the warm Indiana sun.And she's still here ,and she isn't going anywhere,and it will be okay. — Jennifer Niven

Could've understood wanting Cam as a security blanket after everything they'd been through, but that wasn't it. Austin fucked the man under him harder and faster, not because it provided comfort, but because he fucking loved him. He didn't know if he'd fallen completely; he didn't feel like reading into it anyway, but he finally knew where he was headed - where this was headed. "Let me make you come." He kissed Cam 'til they were both breathless. Austin was on the brink of orgasm, too. "Christ." He sucked on Cam's bottom lip as his balls drew up and tightened, as the familiar tingling sensation traveled down his spine, and as he buried his cock deep in Cam's ass over and over and over. "Close," Cam gritted — Cara Dee

After watching so many of the other women find satisfaction-joy, even-in activities like these, I sometimes wondered what was wrong with me that I only found more excuses not to join them. I felt like I did back in high school, not wanting to be a cheerleader or head up the homecoming committee-I didn't have a bubbly personality and didn't care about the theme of a prom — Amy Hatvany

I feel like I walk a very fine line between wanting someone to be open and vulnerable and honest with me and the listeners, but not wanting anyone to ever feel like I'm exploiting them. — Alison Rosen

People make excuses [for not wanting to fight me]. It has a lot to do with my style. I'm a crafty fighter but I can also punch. — Erislandy Lara

It's a curse - this not wanting to look on naked realities. Until the war, life was never more real to me than a shadow show on a curtain. And I preferred it so. I do not like the outlines of things to be too sharp. I like them gently blurred, a little hazy. — Margaret Mitchell

Vanity, or to call it by a gentler name, the desire of admiration and applause, is, perhaps, the most universal principle of humanactions ... Where that desire is wanting, we are apt to be indifferent, listless, indolent, and inert ... I will own to you, under the secrecy of confession, that my vanity has very often made me take great pains to make many a woman in love with me, if I could, for whose person I would not have given a pinch of snuff. — Lord Chesterfield

On the drive home, Adam glances at me several times, clearly wanting to talk about what's happened.
But I can barely look up from the door latch.
Exactly six pain-filled minutes later, he pulls over at the corner of my street and puts the car in park. "Do you hate me?" he asks.
"More like I hate myself."
"Yeah." He sighs. "Kissing me tends to have that effect on women."
"That's not what I meant."
"Don't worry about it," he says, still trying to make light of the situation. "It's my fault. It won't happen again."
"I let it happen."
"Yes, but only because you couldn't help yourself. I must admit, I'm far too irresistible for my own good."
"I wouldn't go that far." I can't help but smile. — Laurie Faria Stolarz

He let a vision of April grow and fill the world. ( ... ) He saw April at the spaceport, holding him in the dark shadows of the blockhouse while the sky flamed above them. We'll go out like that soon, soon, Tod. Squeeze me, squeeze me ... Ah, he'd said, who needs a ship?
Another April, part of her in a dim light as she sat writing; her hair, a crescent of light loving her cheek, a band of it on her brow; then she had seen him and turned, rising, smothered his first word with her mouth. Another April wanting to smile, waiting; and April asleep, and once April sobbing because she could not find a special word to tell him what she felt for him ... — Theodore Sturgeon