Quotes About Yearning

besaban al aire, al vacío, tal vez a algún cabello suelto, de manera que ambas sintieran el efluvio de los besos pero no su calor.

What I want is to hold you like a bell holds space between the hours.

when the need is in the mind, you cannot satisfy the need

como una especie de droga; te exalta, pero a su vez crea una fuerte dependencia, por lo que es posible convertirse en un gran adicto a él. Y

De afar?, noaptea se uita pe fereastr?.

Because all the waters of the ocean won't fill a bucket with a hole in it. And that's their fall, and that's their fellowship. Desire. The hole in the bucket: the gulf of yearning into which the soul empties itself.

That was life, in small - her own life, or anyone's. You spent it grubbing desperately for the physical things that would prolong it. For food mainly, and then if you were lucky enough to be fed, for shelter. And all the time in between you spent dreaming of places you couldn't go and things you could never have. You used it up trying to fit yourself into the spaces that would work, instead of unfolding yourself into the space that was yours and then seeing where that took you.

I przez caÅ'Ä… tÄ™ brudnÄ… drogÄ™, nie wiedzie? czemu, niewypowiedzianie drÄ™czyÅ'a Iwana wszechobecna orkiestra, przy akompaniamencie której oci??aÅ'y bas Å›piewaÅ' o swej miÅ'oÅ›ci do Tatiany.

She only came through that gate once a day, but my heart would beat faster from at least ten false alarms every morning. Then when her time came and the hands were pointing to noon, my heart went on thumping until her shoes with their black patent-leather straps and steel buckles drew level, almost soundlessly, with my basement window.

But no, no! The seductive mystics are lying. There are no Caribbean Seas in the world, no reckless buccaneers are sailing them, and no corvettes are chasing them, no cannon smoke drifts low over the waves. There is nothing, and there never was! There is only a stunted linden tree out there, and iron fence, and the boulevard beyond it...And ice melting in the bowl, and someone's bovine bloodshot eyes at the next table, and fear, fear...Oh, gods, gods, poison, give me poison!... (67)

Whether I am a fool or a villain I know not; but this is certain, I am also most deserving of pity—perhaps more than she. My soul has been spoiled by the world, my imagination is unquiet, my heart insatiate. To me everything is of little moment. I become as easily accustomed to grief as to joy, and my life grows emptier day by day.

Wanita cuma mencintai orang yang tidak mereka kenal

What, without you is life eternal? what are my boundless realms infernal? Just empty words, a loud discord, a vast cathedral - with no lord!

My thoughts have long been stirred and racked by just one name of passing sweetness: my days in paradise have lacked just your perfection for completeness

My soul has been spoiled by the world, my imagination is unquiet, my heart insatiate. To me everything is of little moment. I become as easily accustomed to grief as to joy, and my life grows emptier day by day. One expedient only is left to me—travel.

And this time with ardent lips so lightly grazing he kissed her trembling mouth, and then answered her pleas, in language dazing with sweet temptation; once again those mighty eyes were fixed and gazing deep into hers. He set her blazing. He gleamed above her like a spark or like a knife that finds its mark.

Perhaps all the questions we ask of love, to measure, test, probe, and save it, have the additional effect of cutting it short. Perhaps the reason we are unable to love is that we yearn to be loved, that is, we demand something (love) from our partner instead of delivering ourselves up to him demand-free and asking for nothing but his company.

How could she feel nostalgia when he was right in front of her? How can you suffer from the absence of a person who is present? You can suffer nostalgia in the presence of the beloved if you glimpse a future where the beloved is no more

Perhaps the reason we are unable to love is that we yearn to be loved, that is, we demand something (love) from our partner instead of delivering ourselves up to him demand-free and asking for nothing but his company.

Happiness is the longing for repetition.

The longing for Paradise is man's longing not to be man.

We all need someone to look at us. We can be divided into four categories according to the kind of look we wish to live under . . . The fourth category, the rarest, is the category of people who live in the imaginary eyes of those who are not present. They are the dreamers.

Which doesn't mean, of course, that I'd stopped loving her, that I'd forgotten her, or that her image had paled; on the contrary; in the form of a quiet nostalgia she remained constantly within me; I longed for her as one longs for something definitively lost.

The more vast the amount of time we've left behind us, the more irresistible is the voice calling us to return to it.