Quotes About Yearning

But facts fall short of truth, because truth includes the yearnings of the human heart—

God, thought Ross, it does work, and unfairly; but I want her, not any other, not the most beautiful eighteen-year-old damsel born out of a sea-shell, not the most seductive houri of any sultan's harem; I want her with her familiar gestures and her shining smile and her scarred knees, and I know she wants me in just the same way, and if there's any happiness more complete than this I don't know it and am not sure I even want it.

Ich kann nicht beten:"laß mir sie!"und doch kommt sie mir oft als die Meine vor. Ich kann nicht beten:"gib mir sie!"denn sie ist eines andern. Ich witzle mich mit meinen Schmerzen herum; wenn ich mir's nachließe, es gäbe eine ganze Litanei von Antithesen.

meine tätigen Kräfte sind zu einer unruhigen Lässigkeit verstimmt, ich kann nicht müßig sein und kann doch auch nichts tun. Ich habe keine Vorstellungskraft, kein Gefühl an der Natur, und die Bücher ekeln mich an. Wenn wir uns selbst fehlen, fehlt uns doch alles. Ich schwöre dir, manchmal wünschte ich, ein Tagelöhner zu sein, um nur des Morgens beim Erwachen eine Aussicht auf den künftigen Tag, einen Drang, eine Hoffnung zu haben.

Love is the answer. But while you're waiting for the answer, sex raises some pretty good questions.

The heart wants what it wants. There's no logic.

Weep for the lives your wishes never led.

Trying their wings once more in hopeless flight: Blind moths against the wires of window screens. Anything. Anything for a fix of light. X. J. Kennedy, "Street Moths," The Lords of Misrule

La intensidad de una pasión se mide por la soledad que la precede.

As a person, therefore, would have no enjoyment of drinking, if he had not previously known thirst, so he who is unacquainted with the longings of love has no experience of the most ravishing pleasures.

I felt he didn't need much warmth from anybody. His own 37.5º C were sufficient for him. His spirit slept alone. I thought about how, after Ben and I made love he'd turn his body away from me. His naked back would face me. Even though our bodies were just two or three centimeters apart, I couldn't bear that distance. I felt abandoned and sometimes, in the dark, I couldn't help myself, I missed Xiaolin. I missed nights with Xiaolin.

A vida toda eu tivera vontade de que ela (mãe) me abraçasse. Quando eu era criança, ela não me abraçou nem beijou uma única vez.

You're convinced everything would be fine if we lived together. If only we could. But you live in a world I don't recognize. What a halcyon glow our childhood must have for you.

Maybe there's a place out there where people whose hearts aren't empty can go on living.

The desires of the human heart know no reason or rules.

Maybe there's a place out there where people whose hearts aren't empty can go on living.

I have to make do with a hollow heart full of holes.

I had no intention of running after him. It was as though he had already gone somewhere far away, and I could run and run but I would never catch him.

The traces of my father's presence, which I had done my best to preserve, had vanished, replaced by an emptiness that would not be filled. I stood in the middle of that emptiness, feeling myself on the verge of being drawn into its terrible depth.

Since that time, I've had many similar moments, and I can never hear the words "family" and "home" without feeling that they sound strange, never simply hear them and let them go. When I stop to examine them, though, the words seem hollow, seem to rattle at my feet like empty cans.

My desires seemed simple and terribly complicated at the same time: to gaze at Jun's wet body and to make Rie cry. These were the only things that gave me comfort.

As I traced his profile with my eyes, I realized that I could never ask anything of him again: not caresses, not protection, not warmth. He would never dive into the pool inside me, clouded as it was with the little girl's tears. The waves of regret were gentle, but I knew they would ripple on forever.

I watch the people coming up from the shore road, staring at every girl with even the slightest resemblance to you, and then turning away when I realize my mistake. I perform this ritual over and over, never growing tired. I would gladly repeat my error a thousand times, two thousand times, if it means finding you, you who are wholly unique. Finally, I am at a loss to distinguish between the desire to see you as soon as possible and the pleasant prospect of waiting forever.

Sometimes I wish I could describe how wonderful I feel in those few seconds from the time he spreads his arms above his head, as if trying to grab hold of something, to the instant he vanishes into the water. But I can never find the right words. Perhaps it's because he's falling through time, to a place where words can never reach.