Quotes About Yearning

What is allowed us is disagreeable, what is denied us causes us intense desire.

Go on so! I don't reckon yu' know what you're sayin'. Yu' might as well ask fruit to stay green. If the way we are now can keep bein' enough for you, it can't for me. A pleasure to you, is it? Well, to me it is—I don't know what to call it. I come to yu' and I hate it, and I come again and I hate it, and I ache and grieve all over when I go. No! You will have to think of some other way than just invitin' me to keep green

The silence isn't so bad, till I look at my hands and feel sad. Because the spaces between my fingers are right where yours fit perfectly.

The voice of Love seemed to call to me, but it was a wrong number.

You two have sex every time you look at each other; sleeping together is just a formality you haven't gotten around to yet.

I continue to work with the materials I have, the materials I am made of. With feelings, beings, books, events, and battles, I am omnivorous. I would like to swallow the whole earth. I would like to drink the whole sea.

so I wait for you like a lonely house till you will see me again and live in me. Till then my windows ache.

my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping but I shall go on living.

Only do not forget, if I wake up crying it's only because in my dream I'm a lost child hunting through the leaves of the night for your hands....

What they don't know is that we all belong to the places we've never even been before. If there's any kind of legitimate nostalgia, it's for everything we've never seen, the women we've never slept with, never dreamed of, the friends we haven't made, the books we haven't read, all that food steaming in the pots we've never eaten out of. That's the only kind of real nostalgia there is.

I don't know. Sometimes, I look at Helen. And she's a nice girl and all that. She's pretty. But I feel I'm missing something. I look at Helen, I say: "I must have felt something special to marry this girl.

jejune longing is the chewing gum of life.

He was everything I wasn't. He was a lot of what I wanted to be.

Oh my, how the world still dearly loves a cage." —TESS LYNCH, WRITER, GENTLEWOMAN, AND ESSAYIST

La sua premura è una goccia d'acqua, però, incapace di riempire l'oceano di vuoto che ho nel cuore.

I wish Darcangelo were here. He'd fucking hate this.

How do you feel?" Her pupils were dilated, her cheeks flushed. "Like I want you to kiss me again." And _that_ was the invitation he'd been waiting for.

He wanted to taste nothing unless it was the sweetness of her mouth, the musk of her arousal, the salt of her tears, wanted to touch nothing unless it was the silk of her hair, her soft curves, wanted to breathe nothing unless it had come from her lungs.

I want to undress you." "I haven't touched a man since...since you.

He ached to touch her, to kiss her, but she hadn't asked him to do either - yet. He'd rather eat his own balls than ruin this for her.

She missed his voice, the music he played on his guitar, the sound of his laughter. And sex. yes, she missed that, too. Having the evenings and weekends free to whatever she wanted--something she had once cherished about being single--wasn't nearly as satisfying as doing those things with Javier. But that's what it meant to love a military man.

They danced slow circles in the sand, Javier singing the words to the Spanish version of the song, the melancholy music putting a strange ache in his chest, an ache he saw reflected in her eyes. Was she feeling what he was feeling?

God, Lexi, you are so beautiful, so beautiful to me. I want you… I need…

I would think myself in hell but for the sight of you, lass.