Quotes About Yearning

A man forgets his good luck next day, but remembers his bad luck until next year.

Look for God. Look for God like a man with his head on fire looks for water.

Man loves liberty, even if he does not know that he loves it. He is driven by it and flees from where it does not exist.

There is no beauty or romance or mystery in the sea except for the men that sail abroad upon it, and those who stay at home and dream of them.

it would make things much simpler for a man like him if he knew she were unavailable.

be. We have always yearned to experience

I smile to myself. I have a secret: I wish I was Dumbo the Octopus.

But it suddenly makes sense: I'd like to be under the sea, as an octopus.

But, um, I kind of wondered if I could have your phone number, so I can call you when we're out of here.' She smiles and her cuts outline her face like a cat's whispers. 'Crafty.' 'I am a guy,' I say. 'And I hate boys,' she says. 'But a guy's different,' I say. 'Maybe a little,' she says.

He wanted to know when he was going to kiss the same person goodnight when the lights went out and then hello again the next morning when the sun came up. He wanted to know how he was ever going to make that happen.

Food used to be so good. I used to love food. I haven't eaten food since I was thirteen years old...I haven't had a real piece of bread in thirty years. If I knew what was going to happen, I would have saved some rolls when I was a kid.

Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert.

in the process, I was creating a hunger that could never be satiated.

But it's true, 'Rene. Can't you realize that I'm not like you a bit? Why, to get the things I want badly enough, I'd do anything, hurt anybody, throw anything away. Really, 'Rene, I'm not safe." Her voice as well as the look on her face had a beseeching earnestness that made Irene vaguely uncomfortable.

If it hadn't been for that, I'd have gone on to the end, never seeing any of you. But that did something to me, and I've been so lonely since! You can't know. Not close to a single soul. Never anyone to really talk to.

The far-off interest of tears.

Helga Crane was silent, feeling a mystifying yearning which sang and throbbed in her.

You can't know how in this pale life of mine I am all the time seeing the bright pictures of that other that I once thought I was glad to be free of … It's like an ache, a pain that never ceases…

Actually, they fought to fill the emptiness of their lives as they filled their empty glasses. They fought—not because the liquor was in them, but because it did not fill them enough.

She was neither widow nor mother: she only yearned for the dignity of a woman who had once belonged, somewhere, to somebody. She had belonged to no one, for she had never wanted chick nor child. Her idea of home had been any side-alley entrance and a pint of tinted gin. All she had ever striven for was small change left lying by strangers on North Clark Street bars; and any man's bottle at all.

Meanwhile, I haven't had sex in so long I can't remember who brings the handcuffs.

Sara looked at the well-kept houses along the road. "These Communist pigs have beach clubs, good food, and access to foreign goods that the Cuban people can only dream about.

Sem alma não se chupa nem um chicabon.

If the fire of the love to you wouldn't dry them the floods of tears for you would sweep me away And if the water from my two eyes wouldn't come to my aid the fire of the grief over you would burn my heart wailing