Desire (n.) cannot be false: even if I want what is wrong or never existed, it is still true that I want it.
Desire (n.) reaches only for what we imagine is in our power: we don't wish for more arms or tongues, only for more health or wealth — see that these aren't in our power, and the wishing stops.
Desire (n.) for the good can never be too great — the greater, the better; only desires for bad or superfluous things need regulating.
Desire (n.) always faces the future — even wanting a good to last is wanting tomorrow.
Desire (n.) has no contrary: seeking wealth is fleeing poverty, fleeing disease is seeking health — one impulse wearing two faces.
Desire (n.) agitates the heart more violently than any other passion, sharpening all the senses and making every limb more mobile.
Desire (n.) makes the body agile — and an agile body, conversely, makes desire keener.
Desire (n.) quickens the body only when we can act now; when nothing can be done, all its agitation stays in the brain and the body goes slack.
Desire (n.) for what is not in our control is doubly costly: it may fail and hurt us the more, and meanwhile it distracts us from what we could actually achieve.
Desire (n.) reaches only for what the understanding shows as possible — so convince the understanding, and desire falls silent.