Quotes About Wistfulness

Yet the one I think of most often_¨

When she's next to him, when she rests her hand on his, his whole body aches with something like knowledge for all he has lost, the chances he will never have, to return such a touch, to fall of a horse or eat chinese food or shoot a crossbow (which has always been one of his most dear wishes), to receive a letter in the mail, to be kissed with longing or punched in the jaw.

Before she could face forward again, he caught her gaze with those impossibly light-green eyes of his. "Too late. I'm already charmed, adae. Whether ye dunnae wish me to tell ye so or not." And she was charmed, as well. If only he'd been the oldest MacTaggert. If only her mother wasn't mad for a title in the family. If only, if only, if only.

I wonder about all the roads not taken and am moved to quote Frost...but won't. It is sad to be able only to mouth other poets. I want someone to mouth me.

What I want back is what I was Before the bed, before the knife, Before the brooch-pin and the salve Fixed me in this parenthesis; Horses fluent in the wind, A place, a time gone out of mind.

There was a very slight lilt to it, too, attesting to a childhood spent far from Lincolnshire, and Grace felt herself sway, as if she could fall forward, lightly, softly, and land somewhere else. Far, far from here.

a particularly Jersey malaise--the inextinguishable longing for elsewheres.

The dawn invests our substance with desire And the slow light betrays us, and our wistfulness: When the celestial saffron Is faded and grown colourless, And the sun Gone sterile, and the growing fire Stirs us to waken, We find ourselves again Each in his separate prison Ready, hopeless For negotiation With other men.

Sometimes," she said, "two people pass each other by, look into each other's eyes for a moment, and all that's left is a wish. A dream of what might have been. And then they move away from each other with every step, and away from all their dreams.

Let us dream of evanescence, and linger in the beautiful foolishness of things.

I would love to have some sort of 'Back To The Future' Delorean time machine travel device so I could go back to 1981 to see that very first Jackson 5 concert I went to, back when I was a kid.

I can't watch 'Glee' because I get so jealous that I'm not there with them doing it that I can't even watch.

It is beautiful because it could have been. It should have been.

I can't decide if I'm glad to be old enough to wish my world a fond farewell, or if I envy the young lads who get to explore this world.

We buy balloons, we let them go.

If, of all words of tongue and pen, The saddest are, 'It might have been,' More sad are these we daily see: 'It is, but hadn't ought to be.

I wish I'd lived in New York in my early twenties. Or learned to speak more languages at a young age. I didn't do either.

Boss, what, exactly, are we doing here?" "Feeling maudlin." "Oh. Good. How long are we planning on doing that?" "Don't you ever miss the days when you used to be nostalgic?" "What?" "Never mind.

Wahrscheinlich werde ich jede Nacht von dir träumen", sagte er. "Und wenn ich aufwache, weiß ich, dass der beste Teil des Tages schon vorbei ist.""Das hast du irgendwo gelesen.""Hab ich nicht.

Sometimes missing things was the next best thing to having them.

And what had he wanted? He'd never sat down to think about it. But mostly, he wanted yesterday to be different from today.

the things we don't have are sadder than the things we have. Because the things we don't have exist in our imaginations, where they are perfect.

Because the things we don't have are sadder than the things we have. Because the things we don't have exist in our imaginations, where they are perfect.

He wanted Ichigo's life, a lifetime of endless, immaculate tomorrows, free of mistakes and the evidence of having lived.