Quotes About Yearning

He was terrifying, and I wanted to run my hands down that chest and feel the hard ridges of his abs. I was some special kind of idiot.

My voice was so bitter I could taste it. "It doesn't matter. I thought you wanted to be with me. You made me want"—I struggled with words—"things I didn't think I would ever get. I thought we had a chance. But it's over now.

Well, darkness has a hunger that's insatiable, and lightness has a call that's hard to hear.

Sometimes I ask to sneak a closer look, skip to the final chapter of the book

And besides, in the end, perhaps love demands marble palaces, white peacocks and swans.

your eyes quench my thirst.

Ancora un'ora persa, sprofondata nel nulla, che è colata via tra le dita come acqua e che non tornerà più... Vorrei andarmene lontano, oppure morire....

Alla fine, tutte le passioni sono tragiche, tutti i desideri maledetti, perché si ottiene sempre meno di quel che si è sognato...

La strana felicità che provavano…quella fretta di far conoscere il proprio cuore l'uno all'altra…una fretta da amanti che è già un dono, il primo, il dono dell'anima prima di quello del corpo. "Conoscimi, guardami. Io sono così. Ecco come ho vissuto, ecco cosa ho amato. E tu? E tu, amore mio?

Non era il piacere che gli aveva procurato a legarlo così intensamente a lei. Era qualcos'altro, che nasceva in una zona più sottile della carne, più calda dell'anima.

La signora Angellier suonò. La cuoca si affrettò a chiudere le imposte e le finestre, e il buio escluse tutto: i canti, il suono dei baci, il dolce splendore delle stelle, il passo dei vincitori sul selciato , e il verso del rospo assetato che, inappagato, chiedeva acqua al cielo.

Nostalgic longing is always for an elsewhere. Remembrance is the affirmation of what brought us here.

What a test that is: more than devotion, admiration, passion. If you long and long for someone's company you love them.

What I needed with all my starved and silent soul was just that particular way of shouting back at the world.

How huge it is, how empty, this great space for which I have been longing all my life. Still no letters.

She felt intense disappointment, even a kind of guilt, as if she had missed something, perhaps forever. He had been there, she could have spoken to him. Could she call out now, cry his name? It was impossible.

He felt misery, loneliness, a terrible need for love.

Somehow I've always wanted the ones that didn't want me. I'm the absolute queen bee of unrequited love.

His heart ached in such a familiar way, and the very familiarity of it pained him.

I've thought about nothing else but you.

I need love, I've never felt more in need of it than now. I feel so terribly terribly unhappy.

What greater torment than to see that light, and then to see it eternally withdrawn?

I'm the absolute queen bee of unrequited love.

I crave for love, everybody does . . . and I've never had a bloody crumb of it—and I've given so much love to people—I can really love people, I can, I let them walk over me—but nobody's ever loved me.