Quotes About Yearning

We have everything we need to be happy, but we aren't happy,Something's missing!

How do you get so empty? he wondered. Who takes it out of you? And that awful flower the other day, the dandelion! It had summed up everything, hadn't it? "What a shame! You're not in love with anyone!" And why not?

There were differences between memories and dreams. He had only dreams of things he had wanted to do, while Lespere had memories of things done and accomplished. And this knowledge began to pull Hollis apart, with a slow, quivering precision.

This was all he wanted now. Some sign that the immense world would accept him and give him the long time needed to think all the things that must be thought.

Quietly she wished he might one day again spend as much time holding and touching her like a little harp as he did his incredible books.

Have a drink? I don't need it, said Halloway. But someone inside me does. Who? The boy I once was, thought Halloway, who runs like the leaves down the sidewalk autumn nights. But he couldn't say that. So he drank, eyes shut, listening to hear if that thing inside turned over again, rustling in the deep bons that were stacked for burning but never burned.

Perhaps I expected to look in and find a giant canary, stretched out on a carpet of dust, songless, capable of only heart murmurs for talk.

I memorized all of "John Carter" and "Tarzan," and sat on my grandparents' front lawn repeating the stories to anyone who would sit and listen. I would go out to that lawn on summer nights and reach up to the red light of Mars and say, "Take me home!" I yearned to fly away and land there in the strange dusts that blew over dead-sea bottoms toward the ancient cities.

They felt lonely. They felt so alone, they wanted to cry.

Then I went in and shot the televisor, that insidious beast, that Medusa, which freezes a billion people to stone every night, staring fixedly, that Siren which called and sang and promised so much and gave, after all, so little, but myself always going back, going back, hoping and waiting

Isi purta fericirea ca pe o masca, iar fata aceea fugise cu masca prin curtea casei ei, si nu era chip sa se duca sa i-o ceara inapoi.

Mireasma fanului uscat si curgerea domoala a apei trezira in el dorinta de a se culca intr-o claie de fan proaspat, intr-un sopron singuratic, departe de autostrazile zgomotoase, in spatele vreunei ferme linistite, sub vreo moara veche de vant, care sa vuiasca lin, cu vuietul anilor ce trec. Ar sta treaz toata noaptea in sopronul acela, ascultand zvoana departata a jivinelor, ganganiilor si copacilor, freamatul si forfota lor marunta.

Leaning into the wall as if all of the hunger of looking would find the secret of her sleepless unease there.

That's life for you, said McDunn. Someone always waiting for someone who never comes home. Always someone loving some thing more than that thing loves them. And after a while you want to destroy whatever that thing is, so it can hurt you no more.

Then, left alone, shivering, I happened to glance up. I stood, I froze, blinking up through the drift, the drift, the silent drift of blinding snow. I saw the high hotel windows, the lights, the shadows. What's it like up there? I thought. Are fires lit? Is it warm as breath? Who are all those people? Are they drinking? Are they happy? Do they even know I'm HERE?

Don't ever be a Rocket Man." I stopped. "I mean it," he said. "Because when you're out there you want to be here, and when you're here you want to be out there. Don't start that.

Watching the boys vanish away, Charles Halloway suppressed a sudden urge to run with them, make the pack. He knew what the wind was doing to them, where it was taking them, to all the secret places that were never so secret again in life. Somewhere in him, a shadow turned mournfully over. You had to run with a night like this, so the sadness could not hurt.

I wish I had known him, but he was just another shadow outside my screen door and I already had a sufficiency of shadows in.

Temos tudo de que precisamos para sermos felizes, mas não somos felizes. Alguma coisa está faltando.

That's life for you," said McDunn. "Someone always waiting for someone who never comes home. Always someone loving some thing more than that thing loves them. And after a while you want to destroy whatever that thing is, so it can't hurt you no more.

Don't see so much, Chris, your mind is too big for your body.' I got a war on between a mind that wants things my body can't give it.

Pero cómo renunciar a lo que hemos deseado tanto aunque se quede sólo un día y desaparezca, haciendo el vacío más vacío, y las noches oscuras más oscuras y las noches lluviosas más húmedas. Quitarnos esto sería como quitarnos la comida de la boca.

How do you get so empty? he wondered. Who takes it out of you? And that awful flower the other day, the dandelion! It had summed up everything, hadn't it? What a shame! You're not in love with anyone! And why not?

What does your character want, what is his dream, what shape has it, and how expressed?