Quotes About Yearning

I see you in every passing moment.

When I lost you...my world darkened beyond any known shade of black, and the only light that I have seen since is you...

If it doesn't sound insane, I would only talk about you and the only word which would come out of my mouth, will be your name.

Oh God, let me not be cured of love, but let my passion grow! Let me love for love's sake!

What would I do to possess her? Would I change my cellular structure? Turn my back on my identity?

OBSESSÃO QUE CONSUMIA SUA VIDA, um DESEJO ARDENTE

Desire is only a thought, an impulse. It is nebulous and ephemeral.

crave some form of attention

I can't help what I dream.

And then his throat closed. For it was there. He had wanted it to be there, but now that he saw it, he was overcome with sadness.

Can you feel this He flattened her hand on his chest. His heart thudded rapidly against her palm. It always does this when you're near me. When you're not, I'm looking for you, feeling something missing. I'm not whole when you're not around. It took being with you again to discover how empty my life was without you in it. - Brady Fitzpatrick

Can you feel this? He flattened her palm on his chest. His heart thudded rapidly against her palm. It always does this when you're near me. When you're not, I'm looking for you, feeling something missing. I'm not whole when you're not around. It took being with you again to discover how empty my life was without you in it. - Brady Fitzpatrick

There are indeed all sorts of men/ who visit here: those who want/ nothing but to talk or hear the soft tones/ of a woman's voice; others prefer/ simply to gaze upon me, my face/ turned from them as they touch/ only themselves. And then there are those,/ of course, whose desires I cannot commit/ to paper.

He smoked a cigarette, standing in the dark and listening to her undress. She made sea sounds; something flapped like a sail; there was the creak of ropes; then he heard the wave-against-a-wharf smack of rubber on flesh. Her call for him to hurry was a sea-moan, and when he lay beside her, she heaved, tidal, moon-driven.

By all appreciable signs, they loved; they had looked love, with eyes that conveyed the holy secret from the depths of one soul into the depths of the other, as if it were too sacred to be whispered by the way; they had even spoken love, in those gushes of passion when their spirits darted forth in articulated breath, like tongues of long-hidden flame; and yet there had been no seal of lips, no clasp of hands, nor any slightest caress, such as love claims and hallows.

But year after year that summons, unheard but felt, was disobeyed. His one secret thought became like a chain binding down his spirit and like a serpent gnawing into his heart.

My heart was a habitation large enough for many guests, but lonely and chill, and without a household fire, I longed to kindle one!

I want my happiness! . . . Many, many years have I waited for it! It is late! It is late! I want my happiness!

Go, Annie, murmured he; I have deceived myself, and must suffer for it. I yearned for sympathy, and thought, and fancied, and dreamed that you might give it me; but you lack the talisman, Annie, that should admit you into my secrets.

But I am weary of this place, and sick to death of playing at philanthropy and progress. Of all varieties of mock-life, we have surely blundered into the very emptiest mockery in our effort to establish the one true system. I

Habría querido ser amada, no temida - murmuró Beatrice, desplomándose en el suelo-. Pero ahora y no importa.

Someone speak to me. Call out to me and take me out. Please, please, I'm begging you, say something kind to me. Tell me I'm pretty, tell me I'm sweet. Invite me out for coffee, or more... Tell me that you want to spend the day with me and me alone.

This didn't make me sad exactly - it was more a feeling that my own world was too simple, too smooth, too boring and worthless. The most I could do was have another name, Ninna Hori.

Here was a man who wanted what no one had wanted before: he wanted to get to know the inner workings of the doll-like woman who was me. Karl wasn't interested in me; neither was Johnson. But Kijima's father liked me for who I was. The realization left me feeling numb. I was touched. But being touched is not the same as feeling desire. And I didn't exist without desire. If I didn't exist, then what?