Quotes About Yearning

My heart is breaking for a little love

She cried, "Laura," up the garden, "Did you miss me? Come and kiss me. Never mind my bruises, Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices Squeezed from goblin fruits for you, Goblin pulp and goblin dew. Eat me, drink me, love me; Laura, make much of me; For your sake I have braved the glen And had to do with goblin merchant men.

He feeds upon her face by day and night, And she with true kind eyes looks back on him, Fair as the moon and joyful as the light: Not wan with waiting, not with sorrow dim; Not as she is, but was when hope shone bright; Not as she is, but as she fills his dream.

Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live My very life again though cold in death; Come back to me in dreams, that I may give Pulse for pulse, breath for breath: Speak low, lean low, As long ago, my love, how long ago

I'll love him til he loves me best Me best of all, Maude Clare

Somewhere or other there must surely be The face not seen, the voice not heard, The heart that not yet - never yet — ah me! Made answer to my word. Somewhere or other, may be near or far; Past land and sea, clean out of sight; Beyond the wandering moon, beyond the star That tracks her night by night. Somewhere or other, may be far or near; With just a wall, a hedge, between; With just the last leaves of the dying year Fallen on a turf grown green.

For I have hedged me with a thorny hedge, I live alone, I look to die alone: Yet sometimes, when a wind sighs through the sedge, Ghosts of my buried years, and friends come back, My heart goes sighing after swallows flown On sometime summer's unreturning track.

For all night long I dreamed of you: I woke and prayed against my will, Then slept to dream of you again.

For I am bound with fleshly bands, Joy, beauty, lie beyond my scope; I strain my heart, I stretch my hands, And catch at hope.

Do you dream of me?" you said. My heart was dust that used to leap to you—

I WISH I WERE A LITTLE BIRD I wish I were a little bird That out of sight doth soar, I wish I were a song once heard But often pondered o'er, Or shadow of a lily stirred By wind upon the floor, Or echo of a loving word Worth all that went before, Or memory of a hope deferred That springs again no more.

a character without ambition, is like love without lust.

Unrequited love is the infinite curse of a lonely heart.

As she stands in the doorway watching him, the feeling comes on her again, under her breastbone, between her ribs. A feeling that is one second of joy, two seconds of grief. And she knows then: what has been removed is loneliness and what has been added is love

It's hard to feel desire when you don't feel desirable

Ka njerëz që kanë nevojë për të: një dashuri të madhe dhe të paarritshme. Ajo anë e mirë e jetës, e cila ty të shkakton dhimbje dhe të kujton se sa banale dhe e ligë është pjesa tjetër.

Vetëm kur na ndodh që e humbasim diçka, e kthejmë kokën pas dhe fillojmë t'ia ndiejmë mungesën.

As a little girl I used to daydream about my real father coming on a white horse to rescue me.

When I was born I was unwanted. When I married Charles I was unwanted. When I joined the Royal Family I was unwanted. I want to be wanted. —Diana, Princess of Wales

I yearned for these other worlds where magic empowers people who understood it because I wanted to change my world, my place in it. I wanted to either be more visible, seen for who I am in my entirety and respected for it... or else I wanted to be even more invisible, protected from a world that would attempt to destroy me if others knew I was unlike them. That I was other. That I was queer

An afternoon drive down back roads, looking for something I couldn't put a name to. A route to some place where maybe my true life existed.

The sea will grant each man new hope The sleep brings dreams of home.

How do you know that out there, in the day or night According to latitude, the entire world Isn't wanting to be hanged? Now you, for instance, Still damp from your cocoon, you're desperate To fly into any noose of the sun that should dangle Down from the sky. Life, forbye, is the way We fatten for the Michaelmas of our own particular Gallows.

The dream dissipated like smoke, and she tried so hard to hold it inside her heart and her memory, but like all dreams, it had never been meant to keep.