Quotes About Yearning

I was possessed by what the Germans call Sehnsucht, one of those wonderfully untranslatable words that combines longing and nostalgia for a home that one doesn't even know is one's home.

Hey, a grown man can miss his mommy without shame.

William Pratchett's last words on this earth were an anguished cry of, 'I haven't had my custard yet.

The mourning of late summer as it reaches its autumnal tipping point; the pining for faded youth or lost love; the elegy for the fallen in war; otherworldly dimensions glimpsed but not touched; and the yearning for a distant home: British music is uniquely attuned to these moments and sentiments, for it is finally this sense of loss, of achievement slipping away like sand in a glass, that is at the heart of the British experience over the course of the twentieth century.

They insisted on thinking of God as something outside themselves. Something that yearns to take every indolent moron to His breast and comfort him. The notion that the effort has to be their own, and that the trouble they are in is all their own doing, is one that they can't or won't entertain.

He did not expect reasonable conduct from human beings; he considered most people fit candidates for protective restraint and wet packs. He simply wished heartily that they would leave him alone!—all but the few he chose for playmates. He was firmly convinced that, left to himself, he would have long since achieved nirvana . . . dived into his own belly button and disappeared from view, like those Hindu jokers. Why couldn't they leave a man alone?

I wish we had somebody here who never would be missed. Regrettably we are all friends.

But there was winter in my heart and I was looking for the door to summer.

You really aren't here at all. There isn't anybody but me. Jane, here alone in the dark, I miss you dreadfully!

I miss you dreadfully!

I grok people now, Jill . . . Little Brother . . . precious darling . . . little imp with lively legs and lovely lewd lascivious lecherous licentious libido . . . beautiful bumps and pert posterior . . . soft voice and gentle hands. My baby darling." "Why

I could not make him understand that Heaven was not Heaven to me without Margrethe

I wished that I were back on the Hunters' farm, bathed in the warm protectiveness of Mrs. Hunter. I wished that I were in Vicksburg, sharing mutual loneliness with Georges.

Much of a man's mute yearning for a woman is his need for her light to show him - as well as her - his true nature and godhood. Every woman holds this terrible-wonderful power in her hands.

Romantic love has always been inextricably tied to spiritual aspiration.

It was the longest we had been apart since we'd met. I said, "Home from the hills is the hunter.

Just like human life. You want something so bad you make it hard to get.

Mostly I thought about Susan with her clothes off. This would solve nearly any problem I had

I want her with me," I said, "and more than that, I want her to want to be with me.

And it's the reason I wanted you to live with me." "Not because I am cuter than a bug's ear?" "That too," Susan said. "But mostly I wanted to pretend to be what I had never been.

I finished my New Amsterdam Black & Tan. I wanted another one, but I was used to that. I always wanted another one.

You didn't really forget. It's just that you don't want anyone to come, you hope they don't come.

I know why you didn't bother to switch on the sign. I know why you haven't even gone up to open the office tonight. You didn't really forget. It's just that you don't want anyone to come, you hope they don't come." "All

This: no artist lives and loves, that longs not Once, and only once, and for one only, (Ah, the prize!) to find his love a language