Quotes About Yearning

It was really a star, a star you were heading toward. You can't fail to reach it. Hearing you speak, I felt that nothing would hold you back, nothing, not even me. . . . You could never see this star as I do. You don't understand: It's like the heart of a heartless flower.

Mais il s'agissait de pouvoir recommencer à aimer, non plus seulement de continuer à vivre !

Puis, soudain, se plaçant devant moi, m'arrêtant presque, avec cette manière extraordinaire de m'appeler, comme on appellerait quelqu'un, de salle en salle, dans un château vide: "André? André?... Tu écriras un roman sur moi. Je t'assure. Ne dis pas non. Prends garde, tout s'affaiblit, tout disparait. De nous il faut que quelque chose reste...""-Nadja

Isegi kui olen üritanud midagi hingega teha, olen ma enam kui kindel, et ei vääri elu sellisena, nagu ma teda armastan ja nagu ta end pakub: elu, mis võtab hingetuks.

I do not love men: I love what devours them.

Let every emotion be capable of becoming an intoxication to you. If what you eat fails to make you drunk, it is because you are not hungry enough.

From the satisfaction of desire there may arise, accompanying joy and as it were sheltering behind it, something not unlike despair.

The thing I am most aware of is my limits. And this is natural; for I never, or almost never, occupy the middle of my cage; my whole being surges toward the bars.

C'était seulement quand elle pouvait être à d'autres que je souhaitais l'avoir à moi,

Moteris laukia švelni? prisipažinim?, kaip voras mus?s.

Odiar es querer sin amar. Querer es luchar por aquello que se desea y odiar es no poder alcanzar por lo que se lucha. Amar es desear todo, luchar por todo, y aún así, seguir con el heroísmo de continuar amando.

Odio todo lo que tengo de cielo para mirar, sí, todo lo que alcanzo, porque nunca he podido encontrar en él la parte exacta donde habita Dios.

El sexo es el acto de las tinieblas y el enamoramiento la reunión de los tormentos

cómo es que te pienso, región, y no estoy, cómo fue que te dejaste descubrir así de una, me encerraste en el descubrimiento y me dejaste fuera de ti

Coming?" Dennis held his arm out for her, a patient smile in his voice. She peered up at him, but he was just a tall, blurry shadow. There was talk and laughter and music coming from inside the house. Above it the stars were in a black sky. That black, black sky. "You all right?" All those stars so far apart. None of them close. From far away they just looked it.

Then you think that one can keep a hopeless love in one's heart for so long as that?...And that life can breathe upon it every day, without extinguishing it?

He loved books as other men love women, or opium, or tobacco: they were as a soothing drug to make him forget life.

Perhaps she's in love with the last memory she has of you.

He looked so pained that I dreamed of taking his hands and making him dance

But would the morning sun rise if I could not look on Michael's face? Page 44

While Hubert perusing the countryside with a gentle smile said, 'But look, man, it just like home,' to boys who yearned to see the comparison --green hills that might resemble the verdant Cockpit country, flower that might delight as much as a dainty crowd of pink hibiscus, rivers that could fall with the same astounding spectacle of Dunn's rive.

I yearned for home as a drunk man for whisky. For only there could I be sure that someone looking on my face for the first time would regard it without reaction. No gapes, no gawps, no cussing, no looking quickly away as if seeing something unsavoury. Just a meeting as unremarkable as passing your mummy in the kitchen. What a thing was this to wish for. That a person regarding me should think nothing. What a forlorn desire to seek indifference.

Desperate, lonely, cut off from the human community which in many cases has ceased to exist, under the sentence of violent death, wracked by desires for intimacy they do not know how to fulfil, at the same time tormented by the presence of women, men turn to logic.

But somewhere in America, between the freeways and the Food-4-Less, between the filling stations and the 5-o-'clock news, behind the blue blinking light coming off the TV, there is a space, an empty space, between us, around us, inside us, that inevitable, desperate, begs to be filled up. And nothing, not shame, not God, not a new microwave, not a wide-screen TV or that new diet with grapefruits, can ever, ever fill it. Underneath all that white noise there's a lack.