Quotes About Yearning

As I gave my hand to one and then another of the Winter Knights, hoping to forget Kian's kiss in the arms of the other dancers, I could feel Kian's eyes piercing through me, their flame-tinged ice searing through my soul.

In his eyes I could see the same love, the same longing. I wanted to kiss him; I wanted him to kiss me, and I could feel his longing so clearly I could not distinguish between my wanting and his. And in his arms I felt safe, warm, alive.

the real world was only a dream, only an echo, and in silent moments throughtout the day it would hit me: i am not at home here.

A Black Hole Is Everything A Star Longs To Be

The God of the mystics yearned to be known by his creatures. The Ismailis believed that the noun ilah (god) sprang from the Arabic root WLH: to be sad, to sigh for.46 As the Sacred Hadith had made God say: "I was a hidden treasure and I yearned to be known. Then I created creatures in order to be known by them.

Listen to the reed, how it tells a tale, complaining of separateness. Ever since I was parted from the reed-bed, my lament has caused men and women to moan. I want a bosom torn by severance, that I may unfold [to such a person] the power of love-desire: everyone who is left far from his source wishes back the time when he was united to it.51

Even our contemporary cult of celebrity can be understood as an expression of our reverence for and yearning to emulate models of "superhumanity." Feeling ourselves connected to such extraordinary

Iubirea înseamn?, în esen??, a fi însetat de ceva ce r?mâne absent. De aceea iubirea omeneasc? este atât de dezam?gitoare.

A truly compassionate person touches a chord in us that resonates with some of our deepest yearnings. People flock to such individuals, because they seem to offer a haven of peace in a violent, angry world. This is the ideal to which we aspire, and it is not beyond our capacity. But even if we achieve only a fraction of this enlightenment and leave the world marginally better because we have lived in it, our lives will have been worthwhile.

And how could I hope to sense God's presence when I continually broke the silence, frequently had uncharitable thoughts, and above all, constantly yearned for human affection and wept when reprimanded?

Själva längtan är beviset på att det vi längtar efter finns.

You see, Miss Mina, the air is thick with the spirits of the young sailors and fishermen who died in the sea. They still yearn for the love and touch of beautiful women, young men that they were when they were forced to leave their bodies and earthly pleasure behind. I tell you this to warn you, beauty that you are with your jet-colored hair and your lovely skin more pure and delicious than the top of the cream, and those eyes of yours that stole their green from a sultan's emerald.

If only [there] really was a door and [you] could walk through it into another life, where threads didn't snarl and stitches didn't go all tight and tiny. Where people loved you and didn't leave you for someone else.

He slipped his tongue between her lips and thrust it wantonly inside her mouth over and over, echoing the enticing move of his hips against hers. She clutched him closer, reveling in the feel of him, and the fact that she'd made him moan for her, whisper her name over and over, beg her without words for more. To kiss him more. To touch him more.

God save her from a man with green eyes. It was like trying to do complex math while your favorite song played in the background.

With a hoarse moan, he swept her against him, kissing her wildly, passionately, his mouth promising and teasing, as if her kiss had broken the dam that had held back his passion.

Roland was brave an romantic, and his speech imploring Lucinda to flee with him had filled Bronwyn's eyes with tears. I wish I knew a Roland. During her unpleasant season, she'd come to realise that the world was woefully short of Rolands.

Getting away, it wasn't any better. Just different. And lonely. Lonelier than the wind. Emptier than the sky. More silent than the dust, piled in drifts between me and my father.

People earn the way they are missed.

I felt her loss in a powerfully physical way. I missed her smell and the sticky wet of her breath on my neck. I missed her fingers scratching through my hair. We sat next to each other, lay across each other, pushed, pulled, stroked, and struck each other a hundred times a day and I suffered the deprivation of this. It was an ache, a hunger on the surface of my skin.

A few brief, paltry kisses after so long apart, it wasn't enough. It was a single sip of water offered to a man dying of thirst. He hungered

Memories of her, however, would remain with him. Everywhere he'd look, she would be there, as if she were a hundred women, all shadow and wraith, marking each place at Tyemorn and Ayleshire. He'd see her on the village road, smiling beneath an oak, straddling a furrow and laughing at something a companion had said. There again, tilting her head in an inquisitive look and offering advice on the line of the barn wall, or at night, when he could only see the outline of her form.

He wanted her now in a way that was barely human.

I loved him. I know you don't want to believe that, but I really, truly, giddy, heart-breaking, longing, achingly loved him.