Quotes About Yearning

The dead leave us starving with mouths full of love.

I could easily imagine carrying a favoured item to the ends of the earth, if only to help believe I'd see its beloved owner again.

Sitting alone with Jean, Avery felt for the first time that he was part of the world, engaged in the same simple happiness that was known to so many and was so miraculous. He wanted to know everything; he did not mean this carelessly. He wanted to know the child and the schoolgirl, what she'd believed in and what she'd loved, what she'd worn and what she'd read -- no detail was too small or insignificant -- so that when at last he touched her, his hands would have this intelligence.

Everything today has been heavy and brown. Bring me a Unicorn to ride about the town.

We all wish to be loved alone.

He was a man built to yearn for what he could not have.

Oh to have you with me, to have you here, not to be alone, but to be with you, my beauty, you of all souls! You.

I am an unwilling devil. I cry like some vagrant child. I want to go home.

when we are weary, we speak lovingly of dreams as if they embodied our true deisres-What we WOULD have when that which we DO have so sorely disappoints us

So until we meet again, I am thinking of you always; I love you; I wish you were here...in my arms.

Yes, I know, And I love to hear you say it, Louis. I need to hear you say it. I don't think anyone will ever say it quite like you do. Come on, say it again. I'm a perfect devil. Tell me how bad I am. It makes me feel so good!

Dear God, help me. Do not forget me on this tiny cinder lost in a galaxy that is lost–a heart no bigger than a speck of dust beating, beating against death, against meaninglessness, against guilt, against sorrow.

And what if I never go of my own free will? Will you pitch me from some window so that I must fly or fall? Will you bolt all shutters after me? You had better, because I'll knock and knock and knock until I fall down dead. I'll have no wings that take me away from you.

You make me miserable. You really do, I want you to know that. Much as I love you, much as I need you, much as I can't exist without you, you make me miserable.

God, why didn't you make us all dogs?

You were the vampire in my dream. My perfect one.

God, what is it like to be You and hear all those people all the time everywhere, begging, imploring, calling out for anything and anyone?

There's a bitter cold in me, a cold which comes from a distant land. And nothing ever really makes it warm. You knew of this cold. You tried a thousand times to melt it, and transform it to something more brilliant, but you never succeeded.

Maybe that was all there ever will be just that one weekend and forever this unfinished feeling...

You understood my soul, I thought, and now others are coming only to sack my heart of all its riches. What am I to do? We argued, yes, you and I, but it was with loving respect, was it not? I cannot endure without you. Please come to me, from wherever you are.

But still, even now, to think of it, I feel something akin to that happiness. And I've more reason now than ever to say that happiness is not what I will ever know, or will ever deserve to know. I am not so much in love with happiness. Yet the name Paris makes me feel it.

I confided again that I wanted him, I wanted him to share my loneliness. I wanted him to share all that I could teach and give. Oh, the pain of it! All that I could teach and give.

Garden of Pain, I need you. What were the songs of beasts to the cries of sentient souls?

I'd drink your blood if I could and hook you into every memory inside me, every heartbreak, frame of reference, temporary triumph, petty defeat, mystic moment of surrender.