Quotes About Yearning

Listen as the wind blows From across the great divide Voices trapped in yearning Memories trapped in time

I leaned toward him and whispered, "I'm drowning. Save me." But when I tried to grasp his shoulder my hand passed through him. "I'm over here," he said. I said, "No wonder I can't touch you. You're dead too." Or perhaps I didn't say it.

All her life she had longed to breach that pale and hazy boundary between enough and plenty.

I love you: You imagine hearing the words from someone not related to you, someone not your best friend, but when someone you love, someone you dream about, actually says them, it makes your body melt and your breath get caught in your chest.

I love you." You imagine hearing the words from someone related not related to you, someone not your best friend, but when someone you love, you dream about, actually says them, it makes your body melt and your breath get caught in your chest. "You love me?" I asked, leaning toward him. He nodded. "Say it again" I said. I let my knee bump against his. "I love you," he repeated.

You like jealousy. You like knowing people want you.' He wasn't talking about sex, and my heart slowed a little. 'Is it not natural to want to be liked?' 'That ain't what you want. It's like you got to have everybody's heart, and if they don't give it, you rip it out and watch it bleed.'

I miss my fox-headed brother. Keeper

I want to make love to you. Will you let me?

Is it so wrong to be needed?

It is hard to swerve Ocean and Sky from their deepest desires.

Isn't it what you want, to have every man who sees you desire you?

I wasn't frightened of him physically, but the way he looked at me made me feel insubstantial, as if I were merely a veil between him and the woman he had desired for nearly thirty years.

I wanted to feel his strength; I wanted to feel him. I didn't care how anymore. I just wanted him to touch me.

I have a long and inglorious history of wanting what hurts me.

The first time he had seen her, the first time he had looked into her eyes, he had thought he saw his Stag of Candles reflected there. He had been trying to find that reflection again ever since, but all he ever saw was himself.

I dreamed about her long, snaky body and about her deep, drawling voice. The voice was the worst. I'd wake up at the ninth or tenth hour of the night, my heart banging in my chest, and I'd lie there holding my breath in case she called my name again.

I saw his smile, and I wanted, with the sudden pitiless clarity of a lightning bolt, to drag him away-out of the engine's maw, of the labyrith's heart, out of the cold and sleepless dark beneath Summerdown.

wanted them to be. If she

I already told you, you're not my type." "I thought you didn't have a type." "I probably shouldn't. Given how long it is since I had sex, my type should just be anyone with a penis and pulse, right?

I don't want a martyr in my bed," he drawled lightly, "so cease pretending that you don't burn for me the way I burn for you.

We all want things in life we can't have. Happens all the time. Jobs we don't get. Houses we don't live in. Health issues we sure as hell don't want. People we love who don't love us back. Not feeling the way someone wants you to feel doesn't make you a bad person.

There's more women likes to be loved than there is of those that loves.

I saw William Blackett's escaping sail already far from land, and Captain Littlepage was sitting behind his closed window as I passed by, watching for some one who never came. I tried to speak to him, but he did not see me. There was a patient look on the old man's face, as if the world were a great mistake and he had nobody with whom to speak his own language or find companionship.

And then we jumped off Mount Olympus and flew through the clouds and you held your knee to your chest because you skinned it on a sharp cloud and then we fell into a salty lake. Then I woke up and the window frightened me and I thought: Eurydice is dead. Then I thought—who is Eurydice? Then the whole room started to float and I thought: what are people? Then my bed clothes smiled at me with a crooked green mouth and I thought: who am I? It scares me, Eurydice. Please come back.