Quotes About Yearning

Once I longed for Wealth and Place, Happiness and Love's sweet grace-- Now there lives within my breast Only this one wish--for Rest.

Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight make me a child again just for to-night!

Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand Henceforward in thy shadow.

The great chasm between the thing I say, & the thing I would say, wd be quite dispiriting to me, in spite even of such kindnesses as yours, if the desire did not master the despondency.

I think of thee!-my thoughts do twine and bud About thee, as wild vines, about a tree... Yet, O my palm-tree, be it understood I will not have my thoughts instead of thee Who art dearer, better!

Unlike we are, unlike, O princely Heart! Unlike our uses and our destinies... Thou, bethink thee, art A guest for queens to social pageantries, With gages from a hundred brighter eyes Than tears even can make mine... What hast though to do With looking from the lattice-lights at me, A poor, tired, wandering singer...

Kula??na çal?nan sevdiÄŸin bir ses, Sustuysa, tatl?l???n? yitirdiyse aniden, Ç??l?kla y?rtmaya cesaret edemediÄŸin bir sessizlik, Kuvvetli, taze bir hastal?k gibi ac?t?yorsa seni, Ne ümidi? Ne yard?m?? Nas?l bir müzik silebilir, Bu sessizliÄŸi kulaklar?ndan?

But the prison doors are shut close, and I could dash myself against them sometimes with a passionate impatience of the need-less captivity. I feel so intimately and from evidence, how, with air and warmth together in any fair proportion, I should be as well and happy as the rest of the world, that it is intolerable —

Miss Mitford talks of coming to town for a day, and of bringing Flush with her, as soon as the weather settles, and to-day looks so like it that I have mused this morning on the possibility of breaking my prison doors and getting into the next room. Only there is a forbidding north wind, they say.

The salt and blood of him filled her mouth, and now her flaws were tingling, itching too. She leaned in, purring, and he backed up a step.

She expected some word from the splinters that threaded her soul. Fasaltsen or the wolf. But they were voiceless.

As you wish, my lady. Keep your crown, and your cruelty. Love me not. I will go.

There was the sense of something having been ripped from me; that heartbroken punch of loss without any memories to explain where it was coming from.

As they broke apart, the information safely handed over, the memory of the kiss left Dust full of an aching emptiness, everywhere his airborne nanoparticls drifted and spread.

She was not prepared for Mallory to pull away before Rien thought the kiss was half finished, quickly nipping at Rien's lower lip and then pressing a finger against it. And then it was dark eyes, brown and transparent as coffee, with green and amber flecks swimming under the surface of Mallory's breath across her mouth.

Following a voice that sings only for his ears, the wolf steps from the cold emptiness of a dead world into the bustling street of one that is merely dying fast.

One cannot love dust. One might as well put the hook in one's heart oneself.

He tossed his head to flick his dripping hair from his eyes, and then wished he hadn't, because Baines climbed up the three swaybacked steps to the dais and smoothed the muddy locks back with thick gentle fingers. Kit flinched from the touch as if it burned him, and in his heart he heard an angel whimper.

Right now, with the taste of Muire's life hot on his lips, filling him with a restless passion, the temptation is unbearable.

If she were to be Exalt, one of these arrogant cryptic beings, it semed unfair that she did not have wings.

Dying seemed a small price to pay for such a kiss and now he knew why Selene had fallen away from Muire so disconsolate.

Even now, Will realized he could sense Kit's movements with a lover's awareness. He wasn't sure if that comforted or troubled him, but he stepped closer because he could, and raised one hand to touch the hackled raven on his shoulder.

Space was right there, inches beyond my fingertips.

All of Mingan's longings and his sorrows were there under Strifbjorn's heart, only waiting to be taken out and examined in the light.