Quotes About Yearning

We had been there about four days when she said, "It feels like last year was a dream," she said. "It feels like I had a fever, and the fever has finally broken." "I'm glad," I said. "Still," she said, "sometimes I miss the fever.

Because the things we don't have are sadder than the things we have. Because the things we don't have exist in our imaginations, where they are perfect.

On the day she found Daedalus blowing the glass heart, she had suspected Sam, but she had also allowed herself not to know. She wanted to play more than she wanted to know. Sadie told Sam he had tricked her, but the truth was, she had tricked herself. It was embarrassing how much that silly, exquisite world had meant to her. A year and a half later, she

No substance," A.J. mutters. "They leave you hungry.

Staring into the half light, the queen struggles with wants and needs to which she can give no names. It is not the willow she desires, nor the rose. It is something else…something that eludes her.

for the first time, in this unforeseen way, with half a house between them, the frigid star of the demimonde finally allowed a man to touch her.

Kate was right behind him. When he turned around, she was taken off guard by the power of his nearness. His masculine aura of strength engulfed her; she was suddenly all too aware of the bed nearby. Without warning, the air between them was charged with overwhelming tension. Her heart slammed in her chest. His hard face was shadowed by the candles' glow as he gazed almost wistfully into her eyes. In spite of all his assurances, his hunger for her was palpable in the room, confusing her.

That low, velvet voice alone was enough to stir her desire. He smelled of horse and leather and his own subtle musk that she had become as addicted to as opium-eaters to the smell of their pipe smoke. As he bent closer and gave her an affectionate little cuddle, she but her lip with a vague pang of want. "Miss me?" he breathed in a seductive tone by her ear.

How was she not to be swayed by a man who had saved her life, who had pledged himself to her protection, talked to her like a true friend, and charmed her daily--- a big, beautiful man who had already given her an unforgettable taste of pleasure that first night in his bed? Did he think her made of stone? God help her, but she wanted more. Last night, she had so needed to taste his mouth again, to caress his splendid chest and arms, desperate to get as close to him as she could.

In that moment, he had not known which he had wanted more: to gather her onto his lap and comfort her, or to lay her down and ride her into mindless, sweaty ecstasy. He cast off the question with a restless shrug, deciding to do both as soon as he was done here.

Rohan shrugged off the chill, but such eerie thoughts made him all the more glad they had brought him the girl. On so foul a night, it would be good to have a warm body beside him in bed. And beneath him, and on top of him... He cleared his throat, eager to get his hands on her.

I want you. Stop playing games.

He just stared at her, feeling his very soul swell with love as she padded toward him, barefooted. He loved her eyes; he loved her smile; he loved her pale, slender arms. He loved her dainty ankles, skimmed by the hem of her chemise. He loved her gliding walk and the way her long, thick hair swung around her waist as she hurried toward him. God, help him, he was her slave.

I missed Caroline in dozens of ways, but through them all was the absence of the ongoing dialogue, real or imagined.

He put his hand on my waist, and my heart began to pound, a rougher rhythm than the music. I held my skirt. Our free hands met. His felt warm and comforting and unsettling and bewildering--all at once.

The person in the song is really addressing a powerful and constant state of yearning more than he is any real lover. It's the state of this yearning that torments him, yet he also loves his torment. He needs it. Because he understands that being able to feel this yearning so exquisitely is his secret strength.

What a woman says to her ardent lover should be written in wind and running water.

Whatever happens. Whatever what is is is what I want. Only that. But that.

The path ahead is wide open and you feel a sense of emptiness; in the moment, you realize your heart is empty and the one who can make it overflow with joy, never will.

still I think about him more than I don't. I'm I'm careful, I think about him all the time. What would it take to return to the ease of feeling safe and appreciated? The way I did with him. It would take, I decide, being 20. Better to think about my dead sister than a man whose kiss I will remember forever. Even if he vanishes as completely as Rebecca has.

But what is worse, smelling the roast and not feasting, or not smelling the roast at all?

you have to reach for things beyond your grasp, or what is heaven for

What I want now is what I've always wanted.

I missed Eve so much I couldn't be a human anymore and feel the pain that humans feel. I had to be an animal again.