Quotes About Yearning

He'd done his walls with paint from Holy Basil. God, I yearned for their colors. I hadn't been able to afford them myself but I knew their color chart like the back of my hand. His hall was done in Gangrene, his stairs in Agony and his living room--unless I was very much mistaken--in Dead Whale. Colors I personally very much approved of.

preferably desperate. And

There are some women, who, when heartbroken, have no interest whatsoever in other men. I wasn't one of them. On the contrary, I yearned for male approval as a form of restoration. Call me shallow, call me needy, call me whatever you like so long as you call me.

We always want what we can't have.

I recall the look in Rhauk's eyes the moment he spotted Kate. It will stay with me forever, carved into my brain like an engraving on a headstone. It's as if he found something he treasured, something he's been looking for all his life.

Those eyes made love to me, long before your hands ever did. There is no resistance left in me, only love, and desire for you. It's all I have. I hope it will be enough.

Because way back before you were even born there was this girl you see. And I fell in love with her. It was something that I wanted-love-not because it was expected of me, but because I found it out my self-that happiness of wanting to be with that other person.

I pray for guidance and strength today, to become the person I long to be and do the things I long to do. I honor the imprint of God upon my soul, and the yearning of my heart to follow the path He lays before me.

An ancient memory of this love haunts all of us all the time, and beckons us to return.

Absence does make the heart grow fonder—at first, at any rate. Mrs. Bunting was well aware of that. During the long course of hers and Bunting's mild courting, they'd been separated for about three months, and it was that three months which had made up her mind for her. She had got so used to Bunting that she couldn't do without him, and she had felt—oddest fact of all—acutely, miserably jealous.

My soul drank enough to know how thirsty it was.

standing quietly by the window still hungry for I don't know what

Sometimes I prayed so hard for God to materialize at the foot of my bed it would start to happen; then I'd beg it to stop, and it would.

and I'd die of his emptiness even more than I'm dying of my own.

Beneath the makeup and behind the smile I am just a girl who wishes for the world.

It felt very good to have him walking beside her. Good like rest and quiet, like something you could live without but you needed anyway. That you had to learn how to miss, and then you'd never stop missing it.

When she had been married a little while, she concluded that love was half a longing of a kind that possession did nothing to mitigate.

I can't love you as much as I love you. I can't feel as happy as I am....Were you as sad as you were sad? As lonely as you were lonely? I wasn't. Me neither. I would have died of it.

She had told herself more than once not to call it loneliness, since it wasn't any different from one year to the next, it was just how her body felt, like hungry or tired, except it was always there, always the same.

He looked up at her. Kindness was something he didn't even know he wanted, and here it was.

He said, I'm glad to see you. Why? He laughed. Well, that's what people say sometimes. Besides, I AM glad to see you. They walked on like that, right past the store. She said, Why? He laughed again. You ask such interesting questions. And you don't answer 'em. He nodded. It felt very good to have him walking beside her. Good like rest and quiet, like something you could live without but you needed anyway. That you had to learn how to miss, and then you'd never stop missing it.

Need can blossom into all the compensations it requires. To crave and to have are as like as a thing and its shadow. For when does a berry break upon the tongue as sweetly as when one longs to taste it, and when is the taste refracted into so many hues and savors of ripeness and earth, and when do our senses know any thing so utterly as when we lack it?

To crave and to have are as like as a thing and its shadow.

Fear and comfort could be the same thing. It was strange, when she thought of it. The wind always somewhere, trifling with the leaves, troubling the firelight. And that smell of damp earth and bruised grass, a lonely, yearning sort of smell that meant, Why don't you come back, you will come back, you know you will.