Desire (n.) once stimulated degrades the mind and weakens it: what seems to raise it up is only inflaming it and tricking it with a profound emptiness.
Desire (n.) never satisfies: if we could be satisfied with anything, we should have been satisfied long ago.
Desire (n.) is unnatural when its goal keeps receding: if after travelling far a more distant goal is always in view, the desire is contrary to nature.
Desire (n.) comes in a chain like fate: one begins where its predecessor ends.
Desire (n.) is a pleasure to have outgrown: at the very brink of life, not missing any pleasures takes the place of pleasure.
Desire (n.) that has never satisfied us never will — if it could, it would have done so by now.
Desire (n.) that is natural can come to rest somewhere; desire born of false opinion never stops, because falsehood has no finishing line.
Desire (n.) cannot always be satisfied, but it can always be declined: no one can have whatever he wants, but anyone can stop wishing for what he lacks.
Desire (n.) cannot command having whatever one wishes; it is in one's power only not to wish for what one has not.
Desire (n.) for outward things depresses and weakens the soul; when we think they uplift it, they are merely puffing it up and cheating it with emptiness.
Desire (n.) is better subdued by direct assault than circumvented by logic.
Desire (n.) arrives without a plan: no one can explain how he came to want what he wants; he was driven there, not reasoned there.
Desire (n.) for water can be satisfied; desire for marble floors and royal purple cannot, because it is unnatural and only learns to crave more.
Desire (n.) is the beginning of the death of the self: what love lets in, only further violation can root out.