Quotes About Yearning

Forlorn! the very word is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self! Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music:—do I wake or sleep?

Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy

You are to me an object so intensely desirable that the air I breathe in a room empty of you is unhealthy

Let me write not for fame and laurel, but from the mere yearning and fondness I have for the beautiful even if my night's labors be burnt each morning and no eye ever shine upon them.

I sit, and moan, Like one who once had wings.

I burn'd And ached for wings

To be happy with you seems such an impossibility! it requires a luckier Star than mine! it will never be.

The air I breathe in a room empty of you is unhealthy.

My love has made me selfish. I cannot exist without you. I am forgetful of everything but seeing you again -- my Life seems to stop there -- I see no further. You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving -- I should be exquisitely miserable without the hope of soon seeing you.

A clammy dew is beading on my brow, At mere remembering her pale laugh, and curse. "Ha! ha! Sir Dainty! there must be a nurse Made of rose leaves and thistledown, express, To cradle thee my sweet, and lull thee: yes, I am too flinty-hard for thy nice touch: My tenderest squeeze is but a giant's clutch.

O, the sweetness of the pain! Give me those lips again! Enough! Enough! It is enough for me To dream of thee!

Aí de quando a paixão é simultaneamente modesta e arrebatada!

In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that oft-times hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn. 70

I sue not for my happy crown again; I sue not for my phalanx on the plain; I sue not for my lone, my widow'd wife; I sue not for my ruddy drops of life, My children fair, my lovely girls and boys! 550 I will forget them; I will pass these joys; Ask nought so heavenward, so too–too high: Only I pray, as fairest boon, to die, Or be deliver'd from this cumbrous flesh

Yet can I think of thee till thought is blind

Why did you step out of my life, you minx? Your new hair-do is fascinating and cosmopolitan." He snatched at her pigtail and pressed it to his wet moustache, kissing it vigorously. "The scent of soot and carbon in your hair excites me with suggestions of glamorous Gotham. We must leave immediately. I must go flower in Manhattan.

Stranded in this mill town railroad yard while the whole world was converging elsewhere, we seemed to be nothing but children playing among heroic men.

I've never really been wanted.

I wanna hold your gland.

And so this is Christmas...what have you done?

She missed -- without knowing what she missed-- paints and crayons

A good education should leave much to be desired.

The feeling of sleepiness when you are not in bed, and can't get there, is the meanest feeling in the world.

It has to go to the level of emotional connection, where you feel without it you're lost.