Quotes About Yearning

On the other hand, a desire to serve Christ in the ministry may become intense before there is evidence of the necessary gifts...If you yearn to serve Christ in the gospel ministry, that desire is surely a calling to prayer for the Spirit; likely it is also a foretaste and earnest of greater gifts in store.

Ah! when will this long weary day have end,And lend me leave to come unto my love?

I hate the day, because it lendeth lightTo see all things, and not my love to see.

Ah! when will this long weary day have end, And lende me leave to come unto my love? - Epithalamion

I hate the day, because it lendeth light To see all things, but not my love to see.

Despite my fears and my aching loneliness, I believed without a doubt in a better world, which was adulthood or New York or Paris or love.

She said the reason that love is so painful is that it always amounts to two people wanting more than two people can give.

I was lonelier than I should be, for a woman in love, or half in love.

After that dark woman you search for someone who will fit into the irregular corners of your heart.

I would I were alive again to kiss the fingers of the rain.

I drank at every vine. The last was like the first. I came upon no wine So wonderful as thirst.

They say when you are missing someone that they are probably feeling the same, but I don't think it's possible for you to miss me as much as I'm missing you right now

But you, you foolish girl, you have gone home to a leaky castle across the sea to lie awake in linen smelling of lavender, and hear the nightingale, and long for me.

SHE is neither pink nor pale, And she never will be all mine; She learned her hands in a fairy-tale, And her mouth on a valentine. She has more hair than she needs; In the sun 'tis a woe to me! And her voice is a string of colored beads, Or steps leading into the sea. She loves me all that she can, And her ways to my ways resign; But she was not made for any man, And she never will be all mine.

Searching my heart for its true sorrow, This is the thing I find to be: That I am weary of words and people, Sick of the city, wanting the sea

The undercurrent of my every thought: To seek you, find you, have you for my own.

The sky, I thought, is not so grand; I 'most could touch it with my hand! And reaching up my hand to try, I screamed to feel it touch the sky.

I felt his gaze, I heard his moan, And knew his hunger as my own.

Feast" I drank at every vine. The last was like the first. I came upon no wine So wonderful as thirst. I gnawed at every root. I ate of every plant. I came upon no fruit So wonderful as want. Feed the grape and bean To the vintner and monger: I will lie down lean With my thirst and my hunger.

Give back my book and take my kiss instead.

For the body at best    Is a bundle of aches, Longing for rest;    It cries when it wakes

I would I were alive again To kiss the fingers of the rain, To drink into my eyes the shine Of every slating silver line, To catch the freshened, fragrant breeze From drenched and dripping apple-trees.

O world, I cannot hold thee close enough!

So is no warmth for me at any fire To-day, when the world's fire has burned so low; I kneel, spending my breath in vain desire, At that cold hearth which one time roared so strong, And straighten back in weariness, and long To gather up my little gods and go.