Quotes About Yearning

I looked up at the dark sky and prayed to God for a better break in life and a better chance to do something for the little people I loved.

I think it's a lovely hallucination but I love it sorta.

ah, you always go for the ones who don't really want you

Go moan for man. It's the pathos of people that gets us down, all the lovers in this dream.

In all this welter of women I still hadn't got one for myself, not that I was trying too hard, but sometimes I felt lonely to see everybody paired off and having a good time and all I did was curl up in my sleeping bag in the rosebushes and sigh and say bah. For me it was just red wine in my mouth and a pile of firewood

A feeling of sadness that only bus stations have.

What is he aching to do? What are we all aching to do? What do we want?" She didn't know. She yawned. She was sleepy. It was too much. Nobody could tell. Nobody would ever tell. It was all over. She was eighteen and most lovely, and lost.

All I wanted and all Neal wanted and all anybody wanted was some kind of penetration into the heart of things where, like in a womb, we could curl up and sleep the ecstatic sleep that Burroughs was experiencing with a good big mainline shot of M. and advertising executives in NY were experiencing with twelve Scotch & Sodas in Stouffers before they made the drunkard's train to Westchester---but without hangovers.

I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion

When the railroad trains moaned, and river-winds blew, bringing echoes through the vale, it was as if a wild hum of voices, the dear voices of everybody he had known, were crying: Peter, Peter! Where are you going, Peter? And a big soft gust of rain came down. He put up the collar of his jacket, and bowed his head, and hurried along.

We are sealed in our own little melancholy atmospheres, like planets, and revolving around the sun, our common but distant desire.

wishing there was a Personal God in all this impersonal matter.

galatea was a serious girl. she was pale and looked like tears all over. big ed passed his hand through his hair and said hello. she looked at him steadily. where have you been? why did you do this to me? and she gave dean a dirty look; she knew the score. dean paid absolutely no attention; what he wanted now was food; he asked jane if there was anything. the confusion began right there.

Eager for bread and love.

besides which Lucille would never understand me because I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop.

Ah the mad hearts of all of us.

And since I'm well and on the bum again & aint got nothing else to do, but roam, long-faced, the real America, with my unreal heart, here I am eager and ready.

I like too many things and get confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop.

Lonely as America, a throatpierced sound in the night.

This can't go on all the time- all this franticness and jumping around. We've got to go someplace, find something.

What is the universe but a lot of waves And a craving desire is a wave…

i've no time To dally hassel In your heart's house, It's too gray I'm too cold- I wanta go to Golden, That's my home.

I tried to bring up boyfriends and sex. Her great dark eyes surveyed me with emptiness and a kind of chagrin that reached back generations and generations in her blood from not having done what was crying to be done--whatever it was, and everybody knows what it was.

I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop.