Quotes About Yearn

I'm oxygen and he's dying to breathe.

The body searches for that which has injured the mind with love.

Whoever loves above all the approach of love will never know the joy of attaining it.

Love clamors far more incessantly and passionately at a closed gate than an open one!

Depression is when you have lots of love, but no one's taking.

Love is desire sustained by unfulfilment.

shadows of love, inebriations of love, foretastes of love, trickles of love, but never yet the one true love.

Life has now taught me that love for things, like all unrequited love, takes its toll in the long run.

That's what poems are for, unlivable love.

De een hield de ander niet in de armen, maar toch leek het alsof zij elkaar wiegden.

huyamos pronto de ese hombre, tras de cuyo solo nombre se me escapa el corazón.

That faculty of beholding at a hint the face of his desire and the shape of his dream, without which the earth would know no lover and no adventurer.

It was the kind of barbarously sticky American afternoon that made me yearn for the shadows cast by scooting summer clouds in northern Europe....

Squirrelpaw polished hers off, looked around for more, and sighed. "What wouldn't I give for a bowl of kittypet milk!

Oh, Sunbeam, I want us to be together so much

With a great sign Titch rose from his creaking seat. The impossible occurs so infrequently in this world, even to those who would devote their lives to studying it. But anyone could see: he ached to believe.

But you never got hungry for me. You continued to ignore me." GOD'S Decree. 7-8

Absent one, how I miss you on this shore that conjures you and fades if you're away

I wonder if we'll ever meet My song of love is incomplete I'm just the words, looking for the tune Reaching for the moon and you

Winsome wished he hadn't awakened a longing in her that he wouldn't satisfy. He'd given her a taste of himself and then withdrawn it. She didn't hate him for it, she wanted him more because of it.

As for dreams, they are powered by urgent desire, even if that desire is only to escape the quotidian

Oh, if somewhere there were a being strong and handsome, a valiant heart, passionate and sensitive at once, a poet's spirit in an angel's form, a lyre with strings of steel, sounding sweet-sad epithalamiums to the heavens, then why should she not find that being?

Human Language is like a cracked kettle on which we beat out tunes for bears to dance to, when all the time we are longing to move the stars to pity.

A memory is a beautiful thing, it's almost a desire that you miss.