Quotes About Yearning

Hellboy?" "What?" "Touch me. Make me forget all this." He was on her in an instant, took her down to the floor before she could blink.

Yenrieth wanted to lick her dry. Then lick her wet.

Shit," he rasped. "Too much. This is too much." Too much what? It wasn't enough , as far as she was concerned. "I like touching you." "No one ever touches me." He took a deep, shuddering breath that somehow sounded...pained, and not in a good way. "Nothing but the wind and rain ever does.

I want you, Cat. I want you more than I've wanted anything since I fell.

It had been centuries since he'd last succumbed to the kinds of feelings that usually signalled an impending catastrophic bout of self-destructiveness. He either wanted to kill something, or he wanted to fuck something...and the latter something was Cat.

I'm on the very edge right now." His voice throbbed with raw lust. "I want you under me. I want to claim you, get myself all over you. And as much as I'd love to mount you right here in public, right now—and I think in my past, I would have—I never want anyone to see you like that but me.

He'd taken a lot of females in his life, females who played at sex like a contact sport, but Tayla . . . she rocked his underworld.

Those nails. He was mesmerized, and his mind kept thinking about what they'd look like—and feel like—in places much more intimate than the stem of a champagne flute. Was she doing that on purpose? His dick sure thought so, and it tapped against the fly of his pants, begging for the same attention.

the girl somewhere, who reads you, whose skin has memorized your life. Nothing stops her fingers; they swim with you at night.

The highest dream we could ever dream, the wish that if granted would make us happier than any other blessing, is to know God, to actually experience Him. The problem is that we don't believe this idea is true. We assent to it in our heads. But we don't feel it in our hearts.

For he knew there was a pit of sexuality out there and that he longed to throw himself into it.

It's the oldest story in the world. You want him back, don't you?

One should be able to have the man one loves.

All you want is Love. And if you've wanted love so badly, why haven't you had it? Does not that say something about The Wanter, not his World?

OK, kid, I've been thinking about this for a long time. I really love you, Dinky. I've missed you a lot. Your being away has made that abundantly clear. I can't live without you.

I...I...I...want...your...other...arm!

Is true of the normal heart; For the error bred in the bone Of each woman and each man Craves what it cannot have, Not universal love But to be loved alone.

You can't give me what I want. And I'm still fucking hooked on you. Why can't I let go? Why am I still holding on to somebody who can't give me what I want?

I romanticised Mancunian despair, W says. I didn't realise that Mancunian despair is only the desire to leave Manchester

I can't say it's not painful being estranged from most of my family. I wish it could be otherwise.

The knowing of what she wanted rose up the way waters did from streams underground, so quietly you didn't notice until you slipped on the slicked-down stone.

In other words, what your desires are whispering to you may actually be the key to something bigger than a day at the beach.

Lástima que en aquella época no se hubieran descubierto los hoyos negros en el espacio, porque entonces le hubiera sido muy fácil comprender que sentía un hoyo negro en medio del pecho, por donde se le colaba un frío infinito.

It's the contradiction of life, if I were with them,I would only wish to be far away. Now that I am far away, all I do is wish for one more day surrounded by them