Quotes About Yearning

There's no prayer like desire.

There seems to be a human instinct for prayer. Swiss theologian Karl Barth calls it our 'incurable God-sickness.'

Could I find a place to be alone with heaven, I would speak my heart out heaven is my need.

Oh Lord of melons, of mercy, though I am not ready, nor worthy, I am climbing towards you.

You haunt my days and dreams.

Lord till I reach that blissful shore No privilege so dear shall be As thus my inmost soul to pour In prayer to thee.

Nothing echoes like an empty mailbox.

All the while, believe me, I prayed our night would last twice as long.

Sometimes you can only feel something by its absence. By the empty spaces it leaves behind.

Even as a child I had a strong relationship with yearning and desire. And loss. Those things spoke to me.

The more I know you, the more I want to know you more.

Longing, felt fully, carries us to belonging.

It feels good to think about you when I'm warm in bed. I feel as if you're curled up there beside me, fast asleep. And I think how great it would be if it were true.

There are so many things that demand to be said. Where did you go? Do you ever think about me? You've ruined me. Are you okay? But of course, I can't say any of that.

It's my absolute passionate belief that every single human being, man, woman, or child, is aching to find a face-to-face relationship with God.

But I must admit I miss you terribly. The world is too quiet without you nearby.

I am sweet, I am ugly, I am mean if you love me. I'll try hard just to please you, when I say I don't need you.

I'm not alone, but I am lonely without you.

Had she come all the way for this,To part at last without a kiss?Yea, had she borne the dirt and rainThat her own eyes might see him slainBeside the haystack in the floods?

From these he had fled into love, but now the love had grown cold, and in the night he heard it whistling through the chambers of his heart like a lost and gently crying wind.

She watched as a beer truck lumbered by with a clink of quivering warm, wet promises.

uma nuvem preta solitária à procura de chuva.

He is a man who seems to ache at the slightest parting, always turning when he leaves you for a long glance back as if against the possibility he might never see you again

He paid the driver, then turned and stood motionless under a misty streetlamp's glow, staring up at a window of the house like a melancholy traveler frozen in time.