Quotes About Yearning

Venice had no memories of her father, a policeman killed in the line of duty before she was born, and it was a source of pain that she'd never truly overcome. For as long as she could remember, she'd always dreamed about what her father might have sounded like and smelled like. The picture on Mama's dresser gave her a face, but she'd never know the voice that went with it.

You can love someone so much...But you can never love people as much as you can miss them.

I felt the unfairness of it, the inarguable injustice of loving someone who might have loved you back but can't due to deadness.

I've never known before what it feels like to want someone - not to want to hook up with them or whatever, but to want them, to want them. And now I do. So maybe I do believe in epiphanies.

But I lacked the courage and she had a boyfriend and I was gawky and she was gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating so I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was a drizzle and she was a hurricane.

The imagination says listen to me. I am your darkest voice. I am your 4 a.m. voice. I am the voice that wakes you up and says this is what I'm afraid of. Do not listen to me at your peril.... The imagination is not our escape. On the contrary, the imagination is the place we are all trying to get to.

bereft. I leave this letter in hopes you'll discover it when you

Her mother wanted to sell the Hush. The girl wanted its secrets. It was an old argument.

From the moment I saw you, I wanted you in my dreams

Sadder than a ticking clock, the moments without you

Last night, lost in spaces between star—bays and lakes of clouds, I tossed and turned looking for you

Ghosts may also exist because we will them to exist.

Still thinking of you. Dr. S.

Se miraron un instante, sintiendo lo mismo, que estaban en la línea de salida de algo.

Todavía pienso en ti. Doctor S.

En mi loca vida había muchas cosas fuera de mi alcance. Supongo que debí de haber sabido que me enamoraría de la persona mas exótica que conocería en mi vida.

The music, yearning like a God in pain.

A bright torch, and a casement ope at night,To let the warm Love in!

To make delicious moanUpon the midnight hours.

This living hand, now warm and capableOf earnest grasping, would, if it were coldAnd in the icy silence of the tomb,So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nightsThat thou would wish thine own heart dry of bloodSo in my veins red life might stream again,And thou be conscience-calm'd—see here it is—I hold it towards you.

She looked at me as she did love,And made sweet moan.

Forlorn! the very word is like a bellTo toll me back from thee to my sole self!

My love is selfish. I cannot breathe without you.

I have so much of you in my heart.