Quotes About Yearning

I want to write about people who dream and wait for the night to end, who long for the light so they can hold the ones they love.

Any one who falls in love is searching for the missing pieces of themselves. So anyone who's in love gets sad when they think of their lover. It' like stepping back inside a room you have fond memories of, one you haven't seen in a long time. It's just a natural feeling. You're not the person who discovered that feeling, so don't try to patent it, okay?

In the end, like so many beautiful promises in our lives, that dinner date never came to be.

I don't want our relationship to end like this. You're one of the very few friends I have, and it hurts not being able to see you. When am I going to be able to talk to you? I want you to tell me that much, at least.

Potentiality knocks on the door of my heart. [On Seeing The 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning ]

I read Naoko's letter again and again, and each time I read it I would be filled with the same unbearable sadness I used to feel whenever Naoko stared into my eyes. I had no way to deal with it, no place I could take it to or hide it away. Like the wind passing over my body, it had neither shape nor weight, nor could I wrap myself in it.

My arm was not what she needed, but the arm of someone else. My warmth was not what she needed, but the warmth of someone else.

He felt as if his heart had dried up. I needed her he thought. I needed someone like her to fill the void inside me. But I wasn't able to fill the void inside her. Until the bitter end, the emptiness inside her was hers alone.

What I feel for her is a wholly different emotion. It stands and walks on its own, living and breathing and throbbing and shaking me to the roots of my being.

Looking at the ocean makes me miss people, and hanging out with people makes me miss the ocean.

A girl doesn't always want to go out, you know, Mr. Wind-Up Bird. Sometimes she feels like being nasty--like, if the guy's gonna wait, let him really wait.

This was never any place I was meant to be. This isn't a place for me.

There had to be something wrong with my life. I should have been born a Yugoslavian shepherd who looked up at the Big Dipper every night.

Imagine The Greatest Hits of Bobby Darin minus 'Mack the Knife.' That's what my life would be like without you.

When I first met you, I felt a kind of contradiction in you. You're seeking something, but at the same time, you are running away for all you're worth.

I stare at her chest. As she breathes, the rounded peaks move up and down like the swell of waves, somehow reminding me of rain falling softly on a broad stretch of sea. I'm the lonely voyager standing on deck, and she's the sea. The sky is a blanket of gray, merging with the gray sea off on the horizon. It's hard to tell the difference between sea and sky. Between voyager and sea. Between reality and the workings of the heart.

A certain something, he felt, had managed to work its way in through a tiny opening and was trying to fill a blank space inside him. The void was not one that she had made. It had always been there inside him. She had merely managed to shine a special light on it.

And I really wanted to see you, too, she said. When I couldn't see you any more, I realized that. It was as clear as if the planets all of a sudden lined up in a row for me. I really need you. You're a part of me; I'm a part of you.

I really wanted to see you," I said. "And I really wanted to see you, too," she said. "When I couldn't see you any more, I realized that. It was as clear as if the planets all of a sudden lined up in a row for me. I really need you. You're a part of me; I'm a part of you. You know, somewhere—I'm not at all sure where—I think I cut something's throat. Sharpening my knife, my heart a stone.

One day, I lost sight of her. I happened to glance away for a moment, and when I turned back, she had disappeared.

Aomame raised her glass to the moon and asked, "Have you gone to bed with someone in your arms lately?" The moon did not answer. "Do you have any friends?" she asked. The moon did not answer. "Don't you get tired of always playing it cool?" The moon did not answer.

Somewhere between 'not enough' and 'not at all.' I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it - to be fed so much love I couldn't take any more. Just once. But they never gave that to me. Never, not once.

I couldn't tell wether the hole that opened up inside me was from missing you or from the change of season

Never really loved by anyone, never seeming really to love anyone either