Quotes About Yearning

Allí iba yo otra vez, dispuesta a fabricarme una radiante imagen del hombre que me amaría apasionadamente desde el primer instante en el que me viera.

My consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars - to be a part of scene, anonymous, listening, recording - all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery.

It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in the skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get at.

Girl, aging girl, is haunted by own nothingness & devours views from windows (stories, movies, overheard talk &sights in the street, pictures in newspapers, etc.) with continuous feeling she is 'just about', miraculously, to come into her own her own life

Szeretnék szeretni valakit, mert szeretném, ha szeretnének.

A Better Resurrection I have no wit, I have no words, no tears; My heart within me like a stone Is numbed too much for hopes or fears; Look right, look left, I dwell alone; A lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief No everlasting hills I see; My life is like the falling leaf; O Jesus, quicken me.

I didn't call you I didn't call you at all. Nevertheless, nevertheless You steamed to me over the sea

I thought if only I had a keen, shapely bone structure to my face or could discuss politics shrewdly or was a famous writer Constantin might find me interesting enough to sleep with.

I should wear tiger pants, I should have an affair.

Me sentía embotada y pesada y llena de sueños destruidos.

Não teria feito a menor diferença se ela tivesse me dado uma passagem para Europa ou um cruzeiro ao redor do mundo, porque onde quer que eu estivesse - fosse o convés de um navio, um café parisiense ou Bangcoc -, estaria sempre sob a mesma redoma de vidro, sendo lentamente cozida em meu próprio ar viciado.

As I stared down at Constantin the way you stare down at a bright, unattainable pebble at the bottom of a deep well, his eyelids lifted and he looked through me, and his eyes were full of love. I watched dumbly as a shutter of recognition clicked across the blur of tenderness and the wide pupils went glossy and depthless as patent leather.

I wanted to crawl in between those black lines of print the way you crawl through a fence, and go to sleep under that beautiful big green fig-tree.

Tonight was awful. It was the combination of everything. Of the play Goodbye My Fancy, of wanting, in a juvenile way, to be, like the heroine, a reporter in the trenches, to be loved by a man who admired me, who understood me as much as I understood myself.

Kendimi koÅŸu yolu olmayan bir dünyada yaÅŸayan bir yar?? at? gibi hissediyordum.

Now I am surely becoming an incurable romantic.

I'm so jealous I can't speak. Nineteen years, and I hadn't been out of New England except for this trip to New York. It was my first big chance, but here I was, sitting back and letting it run through my fingers like so much water.

Sabía que debía estarle agradecida a la señora Guinea, sólo que no podía sentir nada. Si la señora Guinea me hubiera dado un pasaje a Europa, o un viaje alrededor del mundo, no hubiera habido la menor diferencia para mí, porque donde quiera que estuviera sentada -en la cubierta de un barco o en la terraza de un café en París o en Bangkok- estaría sentada bajo la misma campana de cristal, agitándome en mi propio aire viciado.

I felt like a racehorse in a world without racetracks

Olmak istediÄŸim her ÅŸeyi olmam, yaÅŸamak istediÄŸim bütün hayatlar? yaÅŸamam mümkün deÄŸil. Ä°stediÄŸim bütün yetenekleri geliÅŸtirmem mümkün deÄŸil. Ä°stememin nedeni ne peki? Hayat?mda, olas? bütün zihinsel ve fiziksel deneyimlerin her bir rengini, tonunu ve her çesidini yaÅŸamak istiyorum.

Now I know what the girl meant in Celia Amberley when she said: If he will kiss me, everything will be all right; I'll be pretty again.

I need a father, I need a mother, I need some old, wiser being to cry to. I talk to God but the sky is empty.

It is sad to be able only to mouth other poets. I want someone to mouth me.

In life, love gnawed my skin To this white bone; What love did then, love does now: Gnaws me through.