Quotes About Yearning

What is it?" she mumbled. "Something that will make my kisses taste like chocolate.

No," she replied, her voice barely audible. "I thought we might create some sparks together. But now I know nothing we do will ever rival the passionate embrace between a hunting rope and a snake.

Perhaps unrequited love was like a specter in the house, a presence that brushed at the edge of senses, a heat in the dark, a shadow under the sun.

How ironic that when they'd been married, she'd never thought of growing old with him. Yet now, years after the annulment, she should think of it with the yearning of an exile, for the homeland that had long ago evicted her.

At least once in his life, he would like for her to look at him as she would a morsel of fine French pastry. Or a slice of Victoria sandwich. Or even a humble piece of buttered bread.

Even now her body yearned to be closer to him. She wanted to press her nose into his skin and inhale hungrily—he always smelled as if he'd just taken a walk across a sunny meadow. She wanted to rub her palm against his jaw to feel the beginning of stubbles. She wanted to slide her hands underneath his shirt and learn every single shape and texture, with the fierce dedication she'd once put into mastering the Grandes Études.

I only speak the truth. I quite despise myself for these desires that run amok. But run amok they do. I daresay for the rest of my life I will dream of being fondled by you.

It was a few minutes before Helena could stop panting. She dared not read any further, or she'd crash through the connecting door and ravish Hastings—and she was far from sure how she felt about him. -- As she was reading the manuscript of The Bride of Larkspear

Nothing," he said. "Just that I have loved you, even when I was nothing and no one to you, when you didn't know my name and barely knew my face.

a drunk did not expect the bottle to love him back,and she only wished to drink him in whenever she could.

He sighed. The sound conveyed no impatience, only a deep wistfulness. "You are telling me that before you can be sure of your affections, you must be sure of yourself.

For the thousandth time he wished he'd just met her. That they were but two strangers traveling together, that such lovely, filthy thoughts did not break him in two, but were only a pleasant pastime as he slowly fell under the spell of her aloof beauty and her hidden intensity. … But no, they'd met long ago, in the furthest years of his childhood. Their chances had come and gone. All they had ahead of them were a tedious road and a final good-bye.

She wanted to run her hands over him as he whispered the impassioned corollaries of non-Euclidean geometry.

Are elderly women easier to fool than seven-year-olds? Which one wants more desperately to believe that a loved one will return against all odds?

Such a lonely feeling, being hopelessly in love.

And in the depth of her eyes were all these years—seasons they'd known, paths they'd trod. Slowly he entered her again. Everything reflected in her gaze: shyness, yearning, ripples of pleasure. The pleasure turned fierce, then ferocious. He labored to draw breath. In the wash of her climax, she closed her eyes. He closed his own eyes and yielded to the moment.

You know what I think about when I'm alone and you are far away?" he murmured. "I think about you, naked, under the sun." He licked her nipple. She whimpered. "Not the English sun, mind you, because it is never adequate. But the sun over the Arabian sea. Or the sun of the south of France. Light brilliant enough to shatter mirrors. And you, naked, in that light, your thighs open this wide—

He walked to the grandfather clock and pretended to check the time on his watch, when he wanted to grab the poker next to the grate and smash everything in the room. The children they were going to have. The life they were going to share. Everything slashed and burned in a vicious assault by reality. And her, oblivious to his pain, throwing away their happiness as if it were last week's bread.

Alas, would that it were as easy to appease the heart as it is to satisfy the stomach.

I miss hot cocoa with a burning passion," Charlotte sighed. "Every time I approach Maximum Tolerable Chins, I make solemn resolutions to be more moderate in my cake intake. And then a year passes and I'm at Maximum Tolerable Chins again.

At her incendiary words, he drove deeper—far deeper—into her, unable to help himself. "So," she said, her fingers on his cheek, "now I've made you mine." He took her fingers in hand and kissed them one by one. "You made me yours long ago, but now you finally claimed me.

He looked at her as if he hadn't seen her in a very long time. Or perhaps, as if he might never see her again, and must memorize her features one by one.

Because I've never been wanted so much by a woman who dislikes me so. And I would like to experience that fully.

Lexington, met the man who would inspire four long years of unrequited love on her part, she was thinking about fossils. She didn't have any