Quotes About Yearning

My heart had only One thought, One want, One need. Despite it all.. All my Heart has ever wanted was You.

Every person in this world yearns to love, to be loved, to know love. Love should come first, it should be the beginning of, and the reason for everything.

It's so beautiful when love comes from a place of absence.

Some days... are for dreaming.

You make me laugh when I want to cry, My heart is weak, my soul is deep with words I cannot speak. For in my dreams that's where you'll be, the perfect one for me...

It's in those quiet moments. That I simply accept the desire to be rescued.

Every minute I looked away, hiding my eyes, I was dreaming what you dreamed

We don't really want to get what we think that we want. I claim this is how things function. We don't really want what we think we desire.

I believe in Love, and I know I will find a love that was almost, never meant to be.

Is there any greater pain to know what could be, and yet be powerless to make it be?

Will you no come back again? Better loved you'll never be, And will you no come back again?

but I am further persuaded that sex (and its accompanying fantasy of romantic love) is now carrying the burden of much of our lost spirituality.

Thus, soul solicits us even as we seek it. The German poet Friedrich Hölderlin expressed the paradox this way: "That which thou seekst is near, and already coming to meet thee.

It is no accident that the primary motive, the hidden agenda in any relationship, is the yearning to return. It is the cardinal's project, the Eden project, the professed aim of the Romantic poets, the yearning for the Beloved. It is essentially a religious search, as attested to by the etymology of the word religion, from Latin religare, to tie back to, reconnect with. Consciousness is achieved only through the loss of the Other, and the perception that the Other is truly Other.

I love to touch you," Karen whispered, "to cuddle you, be fondled by you, love you. But it always leads to sex. You'll never know the times I've wanted to touch you, but not done it, because it always leads to sex.

I did not know whether I would ever speak to her or not or, if I spoke to her, how I could tell her of my confused adoration. But my body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires.

Sometimes he caught himself listening to the sound of his own voice. He thought that in her eyes he would ascent to an angelical stature; and, as he attached the fervent nature of his companion more and more closely to him, he heard the strange impersonal voice which he recognised as his own, insisting on the soul's incurable lonliness. We cannot give ourselves, it said: we are our own.

Touch me. Soft eyes. Soft soft soft hand. I am lonely here. O, touch me soon, now. What is that word known to all men? I am quiet here alone. Sad too. Touch, touch me.

I think of you so often you have no idea.

Absence, the highest form of presence.

He could not feel her near him in the darkness nor hear her voice touch his ear. He waited for some minutes listening. He could hear nothing: the night was perfectly silent. He listened again: perfectly silent. He felt that he was alone.

Her name sprang to my lips at moments in strange prayers and praises which I myself did not understand. My eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to pour itself out into my bosom. I thought little of the future. I did not know whether I would ever speak to her or not or, if I spoke to her, how I could tell her of my confused adoration.

For the years, he felt, had not quenched his soul, or hers.

And you'll miss me more as the narrowing weeks wing by. Someday duly, oneday truly, twosday newly, till whensday.