Quotes About Yearning

Soggiacevo a quello struggimento, ormai ben attecchito in me, di voler nutrire realmente i sentimenti che mi venivano attribuiti.

El amor sólo puede nacer de la desesperación. El espiritu contra la naturaleza...el movimiento del espiritu hacia esa imposibilidad de comunicación es el amor.

I somehow looked forward to death impatiently, with a sweet expectation.

WE NEED TO FALL IN LOVE, PAL—FORGET WOMEN. WHO NEEDS THEM?—DON'T NEVER FORGET YOUR DREAM—GOT A BLACK SCAR ON MY BLUE BLUE HEART . . .

I'm convinced that the trouble with you is, you're horribly greedy. Greedy men are apt to seem miserable. Look, what more could you want than a day like this?" "Something definite. What it might be, I've no idea

Ella no puede penetrar los profundos sentimientos de una canción como ésta; ni ver a través del muro de sombras de mi naturaleza de hombre el anhelo que a veces me hace llorar. Muy bien: entonces, en lo que a mí concierne, no es sino un cuerpo más.

Ne karanin ne denizin maliydi.Belki de karadan nefret eden birinin karayi hic birakmamasi gerekirdi. Kiyidan kopup yuabancilasma ve uzun sureli seferler,giderek insani karadaki yasami duslemeye zorlar,onu nefret ettigi bir seyi ozlemenin anlamsiz acilarina suruklerdi.

Even if I'm being selfish, but I want you to only look at me.

The person that I like is someone that I am uneasy about...

Once upon a time…there lived a young artist. Many of the works that he created seemed to have the spark of life within them, and they captured the hearts of the people. One of those people was another young man…who was entranced by the artist's work. He wished to possess those works of art by any means possible. And in reality…their wishes were one and the same.

If I told you about a land of love...would you swallow it as a remedy?

See her? I was born to read her mind. I can get so close to her my breath is cool on her skin, & she'll be seven blocks away when a cry leaps into her throat & she knows I untied the money belt hidden under her velvet jacket.

Years ago you followed someone here, in love with breath kissing the nape of your neck, back when it was easy to be at least two places at once.

My doors enter from the sidestreet, my windows painted basement black, my mouth kisses the blues harp, my heart hides like notes locked in a cedar chest.

Love is an immortal wound that cannot be closed up. A person loses something, a part of her soul, when she loves someone. And she goes about looking for that lost part of her soul, for she knows that otherwise she is incomplete and cannot be at rest. It is only when she is with the person she loves that she becomes complete again in herself; but the moment he leaves, she loses that part which he has taken with him and knows no rest till she has found him once more.

A person who does not crave cannot suffer. According

Wishes are sometimes just stories that have nowhere to go.

I am very selfish, really. I lived for love.

And happiness ... Well, after all, desires torment us, don't they? And, clearly, happiness is when there are no more desires, not one ... What a mistake, what ridiculous prejudice it's been to have marked happiness always with a plus sign. Absolute happiness should, of course, carry a minus sign -- the divine minus.

When I envied a man's spurs then they were indeed worth coveting.

I'm a lost soul. We do wail.

I play the radio and moon about...and dream of Utopias where its always July the 24th 1935, in the middle of summer forever.

Living is cold and technical without you, a death mask of itself.

Maybe I'm getting tired – I can't think of anything but nights with you. I want them warm and silvery.