Heart Felt Desires Quotes

Life can become difficult when out of sync with your heart-felt desires. ~ Steven Redhead

So," she mumbled, not sure how to finish that sentence – or what to do with her arms. Or where to stand.

It all felt awkward and weird and wrong-until fits dropped his crutches and gently pulled her into a hug.

"I don't want to go," he whispered.

"I don't want you to either," she admitted, hoping her hushed tone hit the thickness of her voice.

She told herself not to pull him tighter so he wouldn't feel how hard her heart was pounding. But she couldn't help leaning closer when she realized his pulse felt just as crazy as hers.

She didn't know what that meant.

But it felt like something. ~ Shannon Messenger

She hardly felt the steps down the aisle, though she did feel the weight of all eyes on her as she walked. It was over in what seemed far too little time, and then her dad handed her off to Shane, and her heart almost stopped as his eyes met hers. ~ Rachel Caine

Betrayal felt bitter and acrid in my throat, and the ghost of it was everywhere, taunting my reflection. How could he do this to me? How could he doubt me so much to expose me to the ridicule and glances of the celestial world? All this time, Amar said nothing. Our bed became a cold thing and my heart froze with it. ~ Roshani Chokshi

He looked up at her, and his eyes were painfully deep. Something strange had happened to Will. She felt a deep warmth inside, a fondness. Not the rushing, heart-quickening distraction of perfection that Prince Ferdinand caused. Not the burning delicious ache that had hurt her every second of every day. This feeling was...unfathomable. It almost felt like amusement. The feeling glowed inside her, warm and precious. It didn't hurt at all. ~ Anna Sheehan

Sometimes during the night, your father awakened. He rose from his bed, staggered across the room, and found the strength to raise the window sash. He called your mother's name with what little voice he had, and he called yours, too, and your brother, Joe. And he called for Mickey. At that moment, it seemed, his heart was spilling out, all the guilt and regret. Perhaps he felt the light of death approaching. Perhaps he only knew you were all out there somewhere, in the streets beneath his window. He bent over the ledge. The night was chilly. The wind and damp, in his state, were too much. He was dead before dawn. ~ Mitch Albom

She was touching his body with her tongue, and he felt it there, but somehow what she was doing went deeper. As if that gentle, moist tongue of hers were flicking his heart as well. ~ Kristin Hannah

But he was incapable of shame.He had no conscience or soul.No heart, either.That has broken and died years ago.The leftover pieces had petrified in his chest, leaving stone shrapnel in a black, empty place that felt nothing.Just a yawning void of nothing.And he liked it that way ... ~ Charlotte Featherstone

The blazing sun beat down on the concrete of the museum's front yard- Reverend Ryu Yosop felt as if the heat were sucking up all the moisture in his brain and heart. What different colors he and his brother Yohan must have used as each of them painted their own picture of home, of the carnage. These people have constructed yet a different vision of their own, Yosop thought to himself, but it all stems from the same nightmare, the one we created together. ~ Hwang Sok-yong

The Brother looked right into Xcor's eyes. "I am Hharm's son. So are you. We are brothers by blood." Xcor's heart began to pound so hard his head hurt. And then he felt his stare narrow of its own volition on Tohr's face. "It's the eyes," the Brother said. "You'll see it in the eyes. And no, I didn't really know him, either. I gather he was not a good male." "Hharm?" Wrath muttered. "No, he wasn't. And that's all I'll say about it." Xcor ~ J.R. Ward

But he immediately felt he did not really want to take that step. It would lead him back, give his soul back to himself; but when one is frantic, the last thing one desires is to be oneself again. ~ Thomas Mann

I like looking at your body," she said.
"Thank you. I like looking at you, period," I responded. She removed her shirt. She asked for help with her bra. We embraced. Our skins touched. I felt her heart beat against my chest. I felt my heart beating. Our heartbeats became one. One heartbeat. We became one. Time passed. I looked at my watch. 10:10. I stood. She remained on the bed, defining beauty.
"It's getting close to eleven, baby. You should probably get up," I said, looking for my shirt. I ran my hands through my hair.
"Stand right there," she said. "Don't move." I stood. She reached to the side of the bed, and got her phone from her purse. She held it at arm's length. "Don't move," she said.
"I heard you," I responded. I stood. She took three photos. "I wish I could paint a picture of you," I said.
"Do you paint?" she asked.
"No," I responded, "But I wish I could. I would paint a picture of you right now, lying there without your shirt. I could stand here, Britney, and admire you for all of what is forever. You make me want to cry. But. That part of me is broken. ~ Scott Hildreth

Ever in my life have I sought thee with my songs. It was they who led me from door to door, and with them have I felt about me, searching and touching my world.
It was my songs that taught me all the lessons I ever learnt; they showed me secret paths, they brought before my sight many a star on the horizon of my heart.
They guided me all the day long to the mysteries of the country of pleasure and pain, and, at last, to what palace gate have the brought me in the evening at the end of my journey? ~ Rabindranath Tagore

Lazarus had never thought of himself as lovable. Therefore it should come as no shock at all that Temperance did not, in fact, love him. No, not a shock ... but it would have been nice had she had some small feeling for him.
Lazarus pondered his own sickening craving as he guided his black gelding through the London morning throng the day after he'd walked out on Temperance. It appeared that his own nascent emotions had provoked a new desire as well: the urge to be loved. How banal. And yet, banal or not, he could not change the way his heart felt.
A corner of his mouth quirked up humorlessly. It seemed he must be like other men after all. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Joie," he said with his lips hovering over mine.
"What?" I felt my heart flutter.
"Shut up," he muttered and then he kissed me. ~ Leah Spiegel

I realise now that the pain Kevin felt - that night, and for nearly eighteen months beforehand, since his suicide attempt - was no less real, no less urgent, than a heart attach, a stroke, a seizure. Than the sensation of running too hard or running too fast, keeling over, grasping for air. Wishing for something to fill your lungs - to rush in and then revive you - except nothing ever does, and maybe nothing ever can.

It is unpleasant, of course, to sympathise with suicide. It is unpleasant to believe in a reality in which death is the only option. And it is problematic, certainly, to compare suicide to running, to cardiac arrest, to terminal cancer. But this is precisely the problem: There is no fair parallel that can be drawn between those who felt the dark pull of suicide and those who never have. ~ Amy E. Butcher

I've been waiting for you to do that."
"What?" Jesse could hardly breathe.
"Just fuckin'…kiss me. I'm never sure you want it like I do."
"I do. Always." Jesse couldn't believe that Shane would be unsure of anyone, let alone someone like him.
"C'mere, Jess. Kiss me again."
So he did. He wrapped his hand around Shane's neck, fingers delving into the damp silky strands of his hair, and yanked Shane's face to his. The kiss was different than most of their kisses had been before. Where there had been sweetness there was heat, soft touches were replaced by grasping, desperate hands. Tongues swirled and Jesse fisted his hand in Shane's hair. He pulled - and not very gently.
Shane moaned and tossed his thigh over Jesse's hip. "Jess…"
Jesse moaned in return. He couldn't believe how good it felt. In a moment of boldness, he ran his hands down Shane's back and cupped his ass through baggy jeans. Shane tilted his hips closer to Jesse's and deepened their kiss. He moved to his belt and fumbled with it for a moment before his jeans went loose under Jesse's hand.
Yes. I want to. His heart crashed - pound, pound, pound, pound - against his ribs. Jesse slipped his hand inside jeans and boxers until he was caressing the warm bare skin of Shane's perfect butt. Shane shivered hard and his back bowed, bringing his hips down on Jesse's. His mouth, that beautiful mouth, suctioned itself to Jesse's neck and Jesse shivered in return.
"Aw, fuck babe. I wan ~ Piper Vaughn

Jesper shrugged again. He adjusted the buttons on his shirt, touched his thumbs to his revolvers. When he felt like this, mad and scattered, it was as if his hands had a life of their own. His whole body itched. He needed to get out of this room.
Wylan laid his hand on Jesper's shoulder. "Stop."
Jesper didn't know if he wanted to jerk away or pull him closer.
"Just stop," Wylan said. "Breathe." Wylan's gaze was steady.
Jesper couldn't look away from that clear-water blue. He forced himself to still, inhaled, exhaled.
"Again," Wylan said, and when Jesper opened his mouth to take another breath, Wylan leaned forward and kissed him. Jesper's mind emptied. He wasn't thinking of what had happened before or what might happen next. There was only the reality of Wylan's mouth, the press of his lips, then the fine bones of his neck, the silky feel of his curls as Jesper cupped his nape and drew him nearer.
This was the kiss he'd been waiting for. It was a gunshot. It was prairie fire. It was the spin of Makker's Wheel. Jesper felt the pounding of his heart - or was it Wylan's? - like a stampede in his chest, and the only thought in his head was a happy, startled, Oh.
Slowly, inevitably, they broke apart. "Wylan," Jesper said, looking into the wide blue sky of his eyes, "I really hope we don't die. ~ Leigh Bardugo

But mostly I wondered why the head could move so swiftly while the heart dragged its feet. I still loved him. It felt like anything else permanent that has gone missing; a lost tooth, a severed leg. You might know better, but that doesn't keep your tongue from poling at the hole in your gum, or your phantom limb from aching. ~ Jodi Picoult

Sorrow compressed my heart, and I felt I would die, and then ... Well, then I woke up. ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Was she happy? Yes. And no. Because now the words were back, and with them the name that had spun gold around her heart for so long she hardly remembered how things had felt before him. ~ Cornelia Funke

He cupped my face and closed the gap between us nestling his nose next to mine. I felt my heart in my throat, beating at full speed. "No." I restrained him, raising my right arm against his chest. David moved slightly back, staring deep into my eyes. "You'll be the death of me. I swear it. ~ Nely Cab

Then J.D. appeared at the door. He was alone. She found Sam's eyes. They were filled with defeat. She was about to go to him when his face suddenly brightened. Glancing toward J.D., she saw Michael come up from behind. He was wearing a new blazer and slacks, looking adorable and terribly grown-up. Annie felt a great swelling fullness inside as Sam excused himself and strode across the room. He stopped several yards from Michael and waited. Annie stopped, too, with her heart in her throat. Michael didn't once take his eyes from Sam. He blinked and swallowed. In a flash of Annie's memory, he was a scared little boy on his first bicycle, with Sam calling, "You can do it, Mike. Give a push off, then pedal. That's it. Good boy. Keep going. You've got it." With the videocam in one hand and his eyes filled with sudden determination, he walked forward. That was all Sam needed. He met the boy halfway in a hearty hug. "I'd just about given up hope. ~ Barbara Delinsky

I never have held death in contempt, though in the course of my explorations I have oftentimes felt that to meet one's fate on a noble mountain, or in the heart of a glacier, would be blessed as compared with death from disease, or from some shabby lowland accident. But the best death, quick and crystal-pure, set so glaringly open before us, is hard enough to face, even though we feel gratefully sure that we have already had happiness enough for a dozen lives. ~ John Muir

African rights and liberty is a subject that ought to fire the breast of every free man of color in these United States, and excite in his bosom a lively, deep, decided and heart-felt interest. ~ Maria W. Stewart

Let me tell you a story," I say instead. "Once upon a time, there was a girl whose life was saved by the faery king - "

"This story sounds distinctly familiar. I think I might have heard it somewhere before."

I shush him and say not to interrupt. "If anyone asked her how she felt about the king, she would have said she loathed him. He ruthlessly trained her to fight his own kind. He taught her to kill. She learned from his lessons how to quiet the rage that burned inside her. But she had already decided that one day, when she had grown strong enough and learned everything she could about battle, she was going to murder him."

Kiaran goes still, his eyes glittering in the darkness. He says nothing.

"Her opportunity came one night when he decided she was ready to hunt her first faery. It was a skriker that had been terrorizing a nearby village, slaughtering children in the night. The king handed the girl his sword and ordered her to kill the goblin-like creature.

"She barely won. But in the end, as she thrust the sword deep into the monster's gut, she felt something so profoundly that she thought it would consume her. So she told the king. She whispered the words and meant them with every part of her rage-filled soul: 'I hate you. I hate all of you.' When she lifted the sword again, she intended to pierce it right through his heart.

"That was the first time the girl had ever seen the faery king smile."

~ Elizabeth May

They slept little that night, making their newfound love like people for whom the world is running out. Fern did not think of her Task, not because she had abandoned it, but because she felt it would present itself for her attention when the moment was right, and until then she had an intermission, a suspension of hostilities, given by whatever gods there were. They lay in the cave while outside the tide rose and fell, and she thought that in this life and maybe in all lives she would remember that love sounded like the sea, and the beat of her heart was waves on a beach, and she would hear its echo in the nucleus of every shell. ~ Jan Siegel

You've become a queen, a woman with a complicated personality. You have hidden depths and a wisdom and intelligence that all went unnoticed before by an idiot prince whose heart couldn't listen to anything his ears couldn't hear."
Ariel felt a little giddy. "I control storms and the heart of a prince. I like that." If she were in the sea she would have been swooning, thrashing her tail and spinning in circles until she was dizzy. ~ Liz Braswell

If you can't feel, why did you kiss me?"
Patch traced a finger along my collarbone, then headed south stopping at my heart. I felt it pounding through my skin. "Because I feel it here, in my heart," he said quietly. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

Look at the stories of people who have changed the world - they have so often started with little, but they distinguished themselves by how they approached life, opportunity, relationships and struggle. Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela, Gandhi. You name them. The list is huge but the common qualities are small.

Resourcefulness and a determination to survive the 'lemons' are invariably at the heart of these successes.

The secret to a life well lived is taking the resources around us - the people we know, the possessions we own, the skills we've acquired - and combining them in such a way that they add up to something greater than their constituent parts.

That's the lemonade bit.

So often in the wild I have felt totally beaten, but I have kept going, kept trying to think smart, be resourceful, positive, energetic - despite the fatigue - and it has always made a critical difference.

We can't always choose our circumstances but we can choose how we respond to what life throws at us, and there is power when we realize our ability to alter our destiny.

A life in the wild has taught me not to fear the unexpected, but to embrace it. In fact, I have learnt that those curve balls from left-field are very often the making of us. ~ Bear Grylls

Her heart was full and her senses were sharp, but her head felt liable to burst in the vacuum of her solitude. ~ Jonathan Franzen

Right and wrong, good and bad, the lines are blurred when it comes to matters of the heart. Anyone who has never felt that has no right to judge, and anyone who ever has won't have to. ~ Megan Hart

Nothing felt like mine anymore, not after you. All those little things that defined me; small sentimental trinkets, car keys, pin codes, and passwords. They all felt like you. And more than anything else, my number - the one you boldly asked for that night, amidst a sea of people, under a sky of talking satellites and glowing stars.

You said no matter how many times you erased me from your phone, you would still recognize that number when it flashed on your screen. The series of sixes and nines, like the dip of my waist to the curves of my hips, your hands pressed into the small of my back. Nines and sixes that were reminiscent of two contented cats, curled together like a pair of speech marks. You said if you could never hold me or kiss me again, you could live with that. But you couldn't bear the thought of us not speaking and asked, at the very least, could I allow you that one thing?

I wonder what went through your mind the day you dialed my number to find it had been disconnected. If your imagination had raced with thoughts of what new city I run to and who was sharing my bed. Isn't it strange how much of our lives are interchangeable, how little is truly ours. Someone else's ring tone, someone else's broken heart. These are the things we inherit by choice or by chance.

And it wasn't my choice to love you but it was mine to leave. I don't think the moon ever meant to be a satellite, kept in loving orbit, locked in hopeless inertia, des ~ Lang Leav

She was suddenly as intently conscious of that particular moment, of herself and her own movement. She noticed her gray linen skirt, the rolled sleeve of her gray blouse and her naked arm reaching down for the paper. She felt her heart stop causelessly in the kind of gasp one feels in moments of anticipation. ~ Ayn Rand

Aeriel felt her heart grow troubled. "I know," she said. "I know that he is evil, but his beauty unmakes me. Every time he looks at me, I die. ~ Meredith Ann Pierce

Maris couldn't help how he felt. Darling owned him. He always had. Even though they could and would never be anything more than best friends, Darling was his heart. ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

The minister paused in his narrative. At that moment there came a tremendous blast of wind which shook the windows of the manse, and burst open the hall door, and caused the candles to flicker and the fire to go roaring up the chimney. It is not too much to say that, what with the uncanny story, and the howling storm, we all felt that creeping sort of uneasiness which so often seems like the touch of something from another world - a hand stretched across the boundary-line of time and eternity, the coldness and mystery of which make the stoutest heart tremble. ("Sandy The Tinker") ~ Charlotte Riddell

Thunder rumbled. My heart beat faster. I turned away from Evernight for the last time and looked back at the flower as it trembled upon its branch. A single petal was torn away by the wind. Pushing my hands through the thorns, I felt lashes of pain across my skin, but i kept going determined.
But when my fingertip touched the flower, it instantly darkened, withering and drying as each petal turned black. ~ Claudia Gray

Violet couldn't help it - she giggled. Just a little. It was just too much. The whole thing. Jay trying to trick her into revealing her feelings for him. Grady trying to kiss her last night. And then this . . . now . . . she and Jay cuddled up together on her bed . . . making out. It was crazy.
"You think that's funny, huh?" He seemed a little bent that she was laughing at him.
"Joke's on me, I guess," she said, serious now. "I get to sit at home, while you and Lissie Adams go to Homecoming." She tried to sound like it was no big deal, but the truth was that it strung more than she wanted it to.
Jay reached up and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck. He pulled her toward him, staring her in the eye as they closed the distance between them. Violet felt an agonizing thrill at just being so near him again. "I called her last night to candle after I dropped you off." His voice was thick and husky, giving her chills. "I told her I was going to the dance with you instead."
Violet thought her heart was going to burst. It was exactly what she'd wanted to hear for weeks, maybe even for months. But she wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily for his devious little game. "Sorry," she offered with mock sincerity. "I have a date already. Besides, I don't remember you asking me."
He narrowed his eyes at her, as if daring her to argue the point. "I'm your date. Grady can go to hell, for all I care. Maybe Lissie'll go with him and he can paw on her ~ Kimberly Derting

Why do we close our eyes when we pray, cry, kiss, or dream? Because the most beautiful things in life are not seen but felt by the heart. ~ Denzel Washington

I realized something tonight when you were in the arena doing your thing."
She took another deep breath of the roses' scent. "What was it?"
"I love you, Elle."
Her eyes flared wide to search his and her heart stopped.
"Do you love me?"
"Yes, I love you, Chase."
Simple, sure, an indisputable fact she couldn't've held on her tongue if she'd wanted to. But was she ready to love somebody who loved her back?
Was she?
"You had me since Spin Master," he said, with that grin she loved. "But I didn't know it 'til tonight."
"Oh, well, then, I get it," she said, smiling back. "You only loved me 'cause I saved your life."
"I want you to save it again."
He stood up to pull something out of the front pocket of his starched jeans. He reached for her hand.
"I'm asking you to marry me, Elle. Will you?"
Tears blurred her vision. They caught in her throat. Oh, God, how could she ever be a wife again? But how could she ever leave Chase?
She tried to buy herself a little time to think. "You said you don't trust women."
"Only you. I trust you. I trusted you with my life the first time I ever saw you."
That made her grin. And then she felt very solemn. He was looking right into her soul, holding her hand in his big calloused one. She clung to it.
"You're in a league of your own, Elle. Not just was a bull-fighter, but in every way."
She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to think. She knew she loved ~ Genell Dellin

There was this girl," I said. "l mean-" All of a sudden I felt flustered, and added, "We were just friends."
"No such thing."
"We were."
"Look. Despite what you may have heard, people have sex all the time with people they don't love, or particulary care about, or sometimes can't even stand. So why in the world do people say that it's just friends, like it doesn't mean as much, if you're not having sex? Real friendship is true and forever and with all your heart. It's not Relationship Lite. ~ Emily Horner