Quotes About Yearning

To be close to your greatest desire could be an exquisite pain

He wanted her. Her. Nothing could take that away from her. Ever. He wanted her, not the status he thought her purloined name could bring him

You are my country, Desdemona." Yearning, harsh and poignant, and she felt herself swaying toward him. "My Egypt. My hot, harrowing desert and my cool, verdant Nile, infinitely lovely and unfathomable and sustaining.

Madam, I could teach lessons in hell on the subject of 'want.'

He turned around to look at the house. Elspeth was behind one of the vellum-covered windows. Did she wonder where he was? If it had been high summer and the windows left uncovered to let in a breeze, would she have peeked out at him as he stood on the shoal, naked as God made him? He soaped up his groin. Just the thought that Elspeth might spy on him at his bath made part of him happier than it ought to be, considering the temperature.

I rocked you in my arms and I realized that none of us had ever been enough for Brick McGinty.

The inner urge that sets us seeking is itself the thing we are looking for. Karlfried Graf Durckheim

Although at times it may be frustrating and even painful to hold the tension of your yearning rather than to submerge it, when you align with it you align with the force of evolution itself.

And, growing tired, we turn aside at last, remember our secret selves, seek out our towers, lay weary hands on the banisters, and climb; climbing, each, to his little four-square dream of love or lust or beauty or death or crime.

My veins are afire with music, her eyes have kissed me, my body is turned to light; I shall dream to her secret heart tonight.

The real thing, this! and all these endless days, these days of senseless drudgery, it was this that set his soul in fever -- in a craze -- to break away, to feel the crushing bliss of life that wars with life -- the seethe and hiss.

I love you, what star do you live on?

Her eyes, he says, are stars at dusk, Her mouth as sweet as red-rose-musk; And when she dances his young heart swells With flutes and viols and silver bells; His brain is dizzy, his senses swim, When she slants her ragtime eyes at him... Moonlight shadows, he bids her see, Move no more silently than she. It was this way, he says, she came, Into his cold heart, bearing flame. And now that his heart is all on fire Will she refuse his heart's desire??...

Desires Like the beautiful bodies of those who died young, tearfully interred in a grand mausoleum with roses by their heads and jasmine at their feet – so seem those desires that have passed without fulfilment; without a single night of pleasure, or one of its radiant mornings.

He Vows Every now and then he vows to live a better life. But when night comes with her own counsels, with her promises and her compromises, when night comes with her power over the body that seeks and yearns, he returns, lost, to the same fatal pleasures.

Vuelve a menudo y tómame, en la noche, cuando los labios y la piel recuerdan...

The Windows In these dark rooms where I pass such listless days, I wander up and down looking for the windows – when a window opens there will be some relief. But there are no windows, or at least I cannot find them. And perhaps it's just as well. Perhaps the light would prove another torment. Who knows what new things it would reveal?

Return" Return often and take me, beloved sensation, return and take me -- when the memory of the body awakens, and an old desire runs again through the blood; when the lips and the skin remember, and the hands feel as if they touch again. Return often and take me at night, when the lips and the skin remember...

Desires" Like beautiful bodies of the dead who had not grown old and they shut them, with tears, in a magnificent mausoleum, with roses at the head and jasmine at the feet — that is how desires look that have passed without fulfillment; without one of them having achieved a night of sensual delight, or a moonlit morn.

Alberta was back again. Back to it all, to all that was warped and desultory, to the lies and evasions and small, hidden irons in the fire, to humiliation and hopeless longing, to the grey road of uniform days. To live in spite of it, to live on as best she could, with her two warring natures: one that willed, no-one knew how far - one that could let itself be bound any time and anywhere. To live and lie and listen her way forward, to seek haphazardly in her tomes, to wait and see...

There was something she should have experienced, something besides this. There was a path somewhere that she could not find. It was and it was not her own fault.

Between them there was an aching void of forever-unspoken words - things that couldn't quite be said by either of them, perhaps things that couldn't be said at all. They were so close to each other that they could get no closer. This created enormous distance, which was heart-breaking but unutterable.

Nobody wants to be here and nobody wants to leave.

If only my heart were stone.