Quotes About Yearning

Praying for the end of time, so I can end my time with you.

It kills me to be time's eunuch and never to beget.

I'd go back to Leeds at any time, but not right now.

rush of pine scent (once upon a time), the unlicensed conviction there ought to be another way of saying this.

Every time he glances at me I feel it just as surely as if he has reached out and run his finger along my soul. It is all I can do not to smile at the sheer wonder of it.

The more you ignore me, the closer I get; you're wasting your time.

Yes, and only if my own true love was waiting If I could hear his heart softly pounding Yes, and only if he was lying by me Would I lie in my bed once again.

He doesn't want your mind, the fool, and I don't want your body. I can buy women cheap. But I do want your mind and your heart, and I'll never have them, any more than you'll ever have Ashley's mind. And that's why I'm sorry for you.

I was there laughing and joking with everyone else, but it's like there was some part of me standing back, watching, thinking, "Is this as good as it gets?

I wanted to tell her that sometimes, in my long sleep, I dreamt of her

If only I could talk Ã¢â'¬Â¦ —Doctor Ellington, the cat

He was acting typically human, the half-elf thought. Refusing that which was in easy reach, only to cry for it when it was gone.

You give me a great desire to love.

Soon you give up, don't look for her anymore, either in the town or at night or in the daytime. Even so you have managed to live that love in the only way possible for you. Losing it before it happened.

When you wept it was just over yourself and not because of the marvelous impossibility of reaching her through the difference that separates you.

I've never written, though I thought I wrote, never loved, though I thought I loved, never done anything but wait outside the closed door.

Perhaps someone will have seen mine, the one I'm waiting for, just as I saw him, in a ditch when his hands were making their last appeal and his eyes no longer could see. Someone who will never know what that man was to me; someone whose name I'll never know.

Nunca he escrito, creyendo hacerlo, nunca he amado, creyendo amar, nunca he hecho nada salvo esperar delante de la puerta cerrada.

Avant et maintenant c'est l'amour entre toi et moi. Ce sera ce que tu voudrais, toi, que tu sois.

He calls me a whore, a slut, he says I'm his only love, and that's what he ought to say, and what you do say when you just let things says themselves, when you let the body alone, to seek and find and take what it likes, and then everything is right, and nothing's wasted, the waste is covered over and all is swept away in the torrent, in the force of desire.

We tell each other things that have no relation to the afternoon's events or the coming night but that relate to God, to his absence that is so present, like the breasts of the young girl, so young before the immensity of what is to come.

I answered that what I wanted more than anything else in the world was to write, nothing else but that, nothing. Jealous. She's jealous. No answer, just a quick glance immediately averted, a slight shrug, unforgettable. I'll be the first to leave. There are still a few years to wait before she loses me, loses this one of her children. For the sons there's nothing to fear. But this one, she knows, one day she'll go, she'll manage to escape.

Even so you have managed to live that love in the only way possible for you. Losing it before it happened." ? Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death

No le conozco a usted. Nadie puede conocerle, ponerse en su lugar, usted no tiene lugar, no sabe dónde encontrar un lugar. Por ello le quiero y usted está perdido.