Quotes About Yearning

I have loved you for several hours now, and every second, more.

Westley, my passion, my sweet, my only, my own. Come back, come back. I shall kill myself otherwise. Yours in torment, Buttercup. She looked at Humperdinck. Well? Do you think I'm throwing myself at him? It does seem a bit forward, the Prince admitted.

She fell fast and she fell hard, but what did that matter, since she would have gladly dropped a thousand feet onto a bed of nails if Westley had been waiting at the bottom. Down

That was all he ever answered. "As you wish.

Westley, my passion, my sweet, my only, my own. Come back, come back. I shall kill myself otherwise. Yours in torment, Buttercup.' She looked at Humperdinck. Well? Do you think I'm throwing myself at him? It does seem a bit forward, the Prince admitted. It doesn't leave him a great deal of room to maneuver.

En mi cuerpo no hay sitio más que para tí.

William Goldman

And I cannot touch her face  And I cannot touch her hair, And I kneel to empty shadows-- Just memories of her grace; And her voice sings in the winds And in the sobs of dawn And among the flowers at night And from the brooks at sunrise And from the sea at sunset, And I answer with vain callings  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

All religions and spiritual traditions begin with the cry Help!

If you didn't know, you wouldn't take him for part-ghost—but you'd know he wanted to be somewhere else.

Sham felt sure there was something he fervently wanted to do & to which he was excellently suited. Which made the more frustrating that he could not say what it was.

Just once," he said with abrupt savagery, "in a goddamn while, it would really be a pleasure if the goddamn world worked the way it's supposed to. I am tired of the universe being such a bloody aleatory frenzy all, the bloody, time.

Sometimes, don't you sometimes wish you didn't care? I mean course you want a change, we want a change, but if a change ain't godsdamn coming, then the next thing I wish is that I didn't care.

The Tattoo. You wouldn't say "charming" -- that was hardly the adjective, but something, there was something to him. If you were deep in self-hate but stained with ego enough that you needed your death-drive diluted, eager for muteness and quiet, your object-envy strong but not untouched by angst, you might succumb to the Tattoo's brutal enticement.

But you no longer heard the song. You had gone away, my boy, into your tale. Did you know that you would never turn into a fish, that you would never reach Issyk-Kul, or see the white ship, or say to it: "Hello, white ship, it's I"? You swam away.

My longing for someone to talk to made Himillsy the lightning bug in my honey jar. I punched holes in the lid so she could breathe.

they say in the old tales that when a man and woman exchange looks the way we did, their spirits mingle. their gaze is a rope of gold binding each other. even if they never meet again, they carry a little of the other with them always. they can never forget, and they can never be wholly happy again

How innocent we'd been, thinking that if only we willed something hard enough, it would come true.

Each desire in the world is different, as is each love.

Your childhood hunger is the one that never leaves you. No matter how famous or powerful they became, my husbands would always long to be cherished. They would always yearn to feel worthy. If a person could make them feel that way, they'd bind themselves to him—or her—forever.

In your yearning you have made me into that which I am not.

The goddess doesn't care how many minutes you spend in front of her," he said. "Only how much you want to be here.

They say in the old tales that when a man and woman exchange looks the way we did, their spirits mingle. Their gaze is a rope of gold binding each to the other. Even if they never meet again, they carry a little of the other with them always. They can never forget, and they can never be wholly happy again.

They say in the old tales that when a man and a woman exchange looks the way we did, their spirits mingle. Their gaze is a rope of gold binding each to the other. Even if they never meet again, they carry a little of the other with them always. They can never forget, and they can never be wholly happy again.