Quotes About Yearning

Even at the age of eight she would fall asleep by pressing one hand into the other and making believe she was holding the hand of the man whom she loved, the man of her life. So if in her sleep she pressed Tomas hand with such tenacity, we can understand why: she had been training since childhood.

And I ran after that voice through the streets so as not to lose sight of the splendid wreath of bodies gliding over the city, and I realized with anguish in my heart that they were flying like birds and I was falling like a stone, that they had wings and I would never have any.

she merely wished to find a way out of the maze. She knew that she had become a burden to him: she took things too seriously, turning everything into a tragedy, and failed to grasp the lightness and amusing insignificance of physical love. How she wished she could learn lightness! She yearned for someone to help her out of her anachronistic shell.

nothing yet. I've been waiting. for what? she made no response. she could not tell him that she had been waiting for him.

She knew, of course that she was being supremely unfair, that Franz was the best man she ever had- he was intelligent, he understood her paintings, he was handsome and good-but the more she thought about it, the more she longed to ravish his intelligence, defile his kindheartedness, and violate his powerless strength

In that etymological light nostalgia seems something like the pain of ignorance, of not knowing. You are far away, and I don't know what has become of you. My country is far away, and I don't know what is happening there.

And suddenly something unforgettable occurred: suddenly she felt a desire to go to him and hear his voice, his words. If he spoke to her in a soft, deep voice her soul would take courage and rise to the surface of her body, and she would burst our crying. She would put her arms around him the way she had put her arms around the chestnut tree's thick trunk in her dream.

She was in the grip of an insuperable longing to fall. She lived in a constant state of vertigo. "Pick me up", is the message of a person who keeps falling.

He suddenly felt dismayed at how little he had seen of her the last two years; he had so few opportunities to press her hands in his to stop them from trembling.

Mesmerized, all she can do is watch this piece of her life move off; all she can do is watch it and suffer. She is experiencing a brand-new feeling called nostalgia. That feeling, that irrepressible yearning to return, suddenly reveals to her the existence of the past, the power of the past, of her past; in the house of her life […] from now on her existence will be inconceivable without these feelings.

The feeling, the irrepressible yearning to return, suddenly reveals to her the existence of the past, the power of the past, of her past; in the house of her life there are windows now, windows opening to the rear, onto what she has experienced; from now on her existence will be inconceivable without these windows.

We can never know what to want, because, living only one life, we can neither compare it with our previous lives, nor perfect it in lives to come.

The stronger their nostalgia, the emptier of recollections it becomes.

What he yearned for at that moment, vaguely but with all his might, was unbounded music, absolute sound, a pleasant and happy all-encompassing, over-powering, window-rattling din to engulf, once and for all, the pain, the futility, the vanity of words. Music was the negation of sentences, music was the anti-word!

La felicidad es el deseo de repetir.

He yearned to step out of his life the way one steps out of a house into the street.

Fare l'amore con una donna e dormire con una donna sono due passioni non solo diverse, ma quasi opposte. L'amore non si manifesta col desiderio di fare l'amore (desiderio che si applica a una quantità infinita di donne) ma col desiderio di dormire insieme (desiderio che si applica a un' unica donna).

Ljudsko vrijeme se ne okre?e u krugu, ve? juri po pravoj liniji naprijed. To je razlog zašto ?ovjek ne može biti sretan, jer je sre?a ?ežnja za ponavljanjem.

Now we are longtime outcasts, flying through the emptiness of time in a straight line. Yet somewhere deep down a thin thread still ties us to that far-off misty Paradise, where Adam leans over a well and, unlike Narcissus, never even suspects that the pale yellow blotch appearing in it is he himself. The longing for Paradise is man's longing not to be man.

How she wished she could learn lightness!

Elisabeth, can't you imagine that you could love someone so terribly that just because of it you couldn't go to bed with him?

Tomas lived under the hypnotic spell cast by the excruciating beauty of Tereza's dreams.

There was not a scrap of tangible evidence to show that he had spent the most wonderful year of his life with her. Which only increased his desire to remain faithful to her.

perhaps all the questions we ask for love, to measure, test, prob, 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