Quotes About Yearning

One learns not to need by needing.

Por qué no será posible que las cosas que uno más quiere se queden para siempre con uno?

Literature for me isn't a workaday job, but something which involves desires, dreams and fantasy.

La vita deve essere bella e semplice, là - disse lui. Lei annuì e sorrise: "Forse perché non è la nostra." (...) E' quello che vorrei" disse lui (...), "una vita felice perchè non nostra".

Burasi, Amerikali yazar Edgar Lee Masters'in Spoon River'ini olusturan siirsel oykulerinin aksine, trajik olmayi amaclamayan, normal yasama ait, gundelik olaylarla yetinen kucuk bir komedidir. Ama huzunlu bir yani da eksik degildir; cunku arabacinin en gosterissiz mzarindan devlet memurunun en ayricalkli mezarina kadar butun yasamlari ozetleyen parlak renkli haclarin paylastiklari bir sey vardi: Hepsi baska bir hayat surmek isterdi. Yazik ki hayat bir tanedir.

A person, who yearns to have only happiness, joy, pleasure, enjoyment and fun and preaches about these things mostly to the people, is not at all a good one to anyone.

She practically had to stop herself from climbing his body and empaling herself on his cock.

Her lips were drawn to his like a moth to a flame.

If I should never see him again—she thought, Blessed Mother, how could I live, and yet it was the fear of seeing him again which had driven her to this desperate haste. The fear that if he were there so near her she

No matter how dutiful one tried to feel, it was impossible to be sad at leaving this behind, not when the blood ran hot and rich in the veins, and when out in the world there were all the untried beckoning enchantments : dancing, sensuous music, merriment - and love.

For a little while when we were lovers I breathed the air from the high places where love comes from, and I can't no more come down.

And he left me to dreams that were anything but sweet.

And then I heard Nico's voice. It was a song I've never heard before. I struggled to make out the lyrics. "You were my hands," I heard him sing. "You were my eyes. There's nothing left to reach for now, nothing left to see.

And then he reached toward me again, this time with both arms, as though he might wrap them around me to give me some comfort. But then he stopped, bit his lip, folded his arms, and strode away.

You wanted justice and there was none- only love.

In my imagination you're waiting lying on your side with your hands between your thighs.

Maybe love just felt that way, like a kind of fever dream, making things seem both frighteningly close and unbearably far away all at once.

He'd never called her. Wanted to. A hundred times. But every time he thought about it, his mind boiled up with every reason not to do it, every doubt he'd ever had about himself.

He wanted their worlds to pull apart and never rejoin.

He stood looking out past the certainty of the empty porch, but he couldn't imagine his father standing anywhere else. It was like listening for the phone to ring, wanting it to ring so badly you convince yourself that you can feel the person on the other end of the line, feel them dialing your number, but then you wait and wait, and it never rings.

Silas was tired of living in a world where everyone and everything held its breath.

Besides, love flourishes best in ignorance…or in absence.

To love you is her nature. But hers is a love from which no good may come. And your desire for her will lead only to cold, dark places.

I wanted what we all want: everything. We want a mate who feels like family and a lover who is exotic, surprising. We want to be youthful adventurers and middle-aged mothers. We want intimacy and autonomy, safety and stimulation, reassurance and novelty, coziness and thrills. But we can't have it all.