Quotes About Yearning

The awful thing, as a kid reading, was that you came to the end of the story, and that was it. I mean, it would be heartbreaking that there was no more of it.

Now love also becomes a reward so remote from me I have only made it with my mind.

I have so fiercely dreamed of youAnd walked so far and spoken of you so,Loved a shade of you so hardThat now I've no more left of you.

I have dreamed of you so much that you are no longer real. Is there still time for me to reach your breathing body, to kiss your mouth and make your dear voice come alive again? I have dreamed of you so much that my arms, grown used to being crossed on my chest as I hugged your shadow, would perhaps not bend to the shape of your body. For faced with the real form of what has haunted me and governed me for so many days and years, I would surely become a shadow.

Elle tourna vers moi les yeux à cet instant, mais je n'ose y croire, ce regard fut-il un aveu. Ne me dites pas qu'elle est belle, elle est émouvante. Sa vue imprime à mon coeur un mouvement plus rapide, son absence emplit mon esprit.

One kind kiss before we part, Drop a tear, and bid adieu; Though we sever, my fond heart Till we meet shall pant for you.

Hamilton thrust his hands into his pockets. "Home

Sleep was like sex. The less you had, the more you craved it, and Tracy Crosswhite hadn't had much of either lately.

Sleep was like sex. The less you had, the more you craved it, and Tracy Crosswhite hadn't had much of either lately. She stretched

One of the most fundamental problems in the spiritual order is that we sense within ourselves the hunger for God, but we attempt to satisfy it with some created good that is less than God. Thomas Aquinas said that the four typical substitutes for God are wealth, pleasure, power, and honor.

Never be like a prostitute, going from guru to guru, deity to deity, never select¬ ing one as a true lover. Be like the Cataka bird, that drinks water only when the Swati asterism is in the sky. Never be happy anywhere but where your beloved is, whatever you may choose to love. Then you can get Siddhi—not otherwise.

The world is a bitter thing For a dreaming heart to bear alone.

I'd say we're all just ghosts on a wire seeking the prick of an electric thought.

Love is the desire to be irresistibly desired.

A poem… begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It is never a thought to begin with. It is at its best when it is a tantalizing vagueness.

Love is an irresistable desire to be irresistably desired.

A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.

Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.

Hide-and-seek, grown-up style. Wanting to hide. Needing to be sought. Confused about being found.

The feel of her was both new and familiar, as though he had held her a long time ago, as though he had missed it without knowing it for years.

They don't disappear, the dead. It'd be easier if they did. I can see her so clearly. If she walked up those steps now, part of me wouldn't be surprised. She was such a vivid person.

With a twist in his chest, and in spite of his satisfaction at having done what he'd set out to do, he wished he could have called Joan, and told her the end of Margot Bamborough's story, and heard her say she was proud of him, one last time.

The dead girl had her glimpse of earthly paradise: littered with designer goods, and celebrities to sneer at, and handsome drivers to joke with, and the yearning for it had brought her to this: seven mourners, and a minister who did not know her name.

The difficulty of merging two lives, of waiting for the soulmate who never arrived, of craving both freedom and love.