Quotes About Yearning

Back then, Billy imagined that drops of rain were unanswered prayers falling back to earth.

There's solace in the thought that I will never finish missing her.

I think I'd like her to turn round. I want to see her face a second time. That first time she was hardly visible. She was little more than dark on dark, a body shape, as I remember it. If only she would spin round on her heels and the moonlight would oblige, I could persuade myself she's real and not a spectre summoned up by loneliness.

I am excused, I think, for wondering if I am the only one alive this afternoon with no other living soul who wants to cling to me, no other soul who'll let me dampen her. The day has ended and the light has snuffed. I'm left to trudge into the final evening with nobody to loop their soaking hands through mine.

Passion is the work of seconds. You only have to make a god of what you most desire.

The more we pray, the more we sense our need to pray. And the more we sense a need to pray, the more we want to pray. C

Day after day goes by, and God keeps looking, looking....Doesn't anyone want to call out for his blessing? Upon whom can he pour his grace? Isn't anyone interested?

I wanted someone to hold me close so I slide across and snuggled in tight and said, 'Hold me.' He did, and it was tender and truly sweet, but without a trace of that wild carnal edge you would have to cross if you want to get so close together you can't tell each other apart. I pushed it. I said, 'I want to get closer. I want you to love who I am.' Love doesn't do much for the powers of explanation, but since Love has never asked for one itself, that seems fair enough.

Franchement vu la façon dont j'ai été traitée par les gens dits "civilisés", il me tarde finalement d'aller vivre chez les sauvages.

How wonderful it was to love something without the compromise of language.

It hurts to set you free, but you'll never follow me.

Desperately in need of some stranger's handIn a desperate land

whether you're missing

Each day death corrodes what we call living, and life ceaselessly swallows our desire for the void.

So now I was wine-less and new-book-less, which for me is a grievous state of affairs.

We sit silently in our living room. He watches the mute television screen and I watch him. The planes and ridges of his face are more familiar to me than my own. I understand that he wishes even more than I do that he still loved me.

I understand that he wishes even more than I do that he still loved me.

I haven't forgotten one second of how good it felt to hold you, but I wasn't the one who pulled away. You don't want me to be more, do you? I just keep pushing against your walls, and to tell you the truth, baby, my hands are starting to bleed. do you want me gone for good? Look at me, tell me to leave you alone, and I will. I swear I'll get in my truck, drive off, and never bother you again." --Tommy to Shea

Grayson James, on the other hand,could give me a tongue-lashing of a different sort. A very welcome one.

Maybe some of the masters really believed they could make it work, but I think what they really wanted wasn't to do it themselves but for somebody else to have made it real and for them to have been born there.

Give me the good for which I do not know to ask,

I want to run so much sometimes my body aches with longing more than the pain from my leg.

Em Diadorim, penso também – mas Diadorim é a minha neblina...

Toda saudade é uma espécie de velhice