Quotes About Yearning

Cacei Diadorim. Mas eu estreava umas ânsias. Como fosse, falei, do novo e do velho;

Um corpo diferente de todos, mais fino, mais alvo, cor-de-rosa, uma beleza que não se sabe — como uma riqueza inesperada, roubada, como uma vertigem... Despir Dona Lalinha será sempre um pecado. Eu teria de ter vivido para a merecer — desde a hora do meu nascimento.

Pois, Mãe, então mar é o que a gente tem saudade?

Agora, nunca ter querido dar uma escapulidinha de vez em quando, nunca ter fantasiado uma trepada fora é mentira. Mentira que muito raramente pode ser sincera, mas, mesmo nestes casos, não deixa de ser mentira.

When will I ever learn to accept what is given instead of always yearning for more? My lavish expectations too often tarnish my blessings.

Mom put dense cheddar bread into a bag for a man who said this was his wife's favorite - he'd driven all the way from New Jersey to buy it because today was their anniversary. Several women in the store jabbed their husbands on hearing this. I hung my head - Peter Terris wouldn't cross the street to buy me a Twinkie.

Hope-to cherish a desire with expectation of fulfillment.

There are two tragedies in life. One is never getting your heart's desire. The other is getting it.

He is afraid, as suddenly he knows that he was afraid all along, that if he felt her body so close to him he would never let her go.

Having "lost her bloom" in the eight years since her romance and break-up with Captain Wentworth before the novel begins, Anne is wispy and quiet, still in love with Wentworth, but feeling helpless to do anything about it because he hasn't attempted to contact her again, and protocol of the day says she can't make the first move in contacting him.

Sometimes the gulls came nearer, screaming noisily as they quarreled over small fish in the pools, and sometimes they cried mournfully far away along the beach. Then Anna felt like crying too - not actually, but quietly - inside. They made a sad, and beautiful, and long-ago sound that seemed to remind her of something lovely she had once known - and lost, and never found again. But she did not know what it was.

Even as a little girl, Irma Leopold had wanted above all things to see everyone happy with the cake of their choice. Sometimes it became an almost unbearable longing, as when she had looked down at Mademoiselle asleep on the grass this afternoon.

Your bed was empty today When I looked for you Why?

Funny how an absence can feel like a presence, like that space practically glows with her outline and make me notice how she's not here.

My arms are empty without you! My heart cries out, lonely in the darkness, but you are not here. No tears shall bring you back into my arms again. My mothers love was not strong enough to keep you, but it is strong enough to follow and find you, though all the mists of Eternity should try to come between!

we really have to go back inside? It's not our fault that we're here. I wanted for us to turn around and go home. Really I did. I knew something was wrong." Boy

And if I have hoped for more it is only the whole of loneliness swept away by understanding from "Excerpts from a Secret Prophecy

I said Jeannine why are you unhappy? I'm not unhappy. You have everything (I said). What is there that you want and haven't got? I want to die. Do you want to be an airplane pilot? is that it? And they won't let you? Did you have a talent for mathematics, which they squelched? Did they refuse to let you be a truck driver? What is it? I want to live.

That's how pathetic things had gotten. I'd actually sat alone in the darkness lusting after a girl like some fucking Robert Pattinson wannabe. At least I smoked instead of sparkled.

I want to stick my cock into your pussy. Don't worry—I'll get you nice and ready first. Open you up with my fingers, make sure you're so wet and hot that when you wrap around me, it'll feel like I'm fucking a goddess because you're goddamn perfect, London. I can't wait to feel your cunt squeezing me. Lick your clit, taste you . . . It'll be good between us. You know it will.

I'd fallen in love with Melanie Tucker. Not some little-boy, bullshit needy "love"… This was deep, almost painful in its unholy intensity. It was like she'd sent tendrils burrowing deep inside, binding us together so tightly I'd die if I ever tried to pull them out. I was truly, deeply, and utterly fucked, because I fucking loved this girl…and she wasn't for me.

Esto es lo que quiero —dijo con voz acariciadora, mientras se inclinaba y me besaba entre los omoplatos—. Necesito hacerte mía. Toda mía. Hacerte gritar, sentir que me perteneces y que yo te pertenezco y que nada más importa. No puedo dejar que te alejes de mí, nena.

Reese?" Her voice was tense, but I still liked the sound of my name on her tongue. Of course, it'd sound sweeter if she was screaming it into a pillow while I pounded her from behind. Funny how that works.

This bitch and her gorgeous rack had been making my life a living hell for the past six months, because she was the last think I needed in my life and I'd never wanted to fuck anyone more… And that was a problem.