Quotes About Longing

Hopeless heart that thrives on paradox,...that longs for certainty, fidelity, compassion, and plays roulette with anything precious.

I didn't only want Louise's flesh, I wanted her bones, her blood, her tissues, the sinews that bound her together. I would have held her to me though time had stripped away the tones and textures of her skin. I could have held her for a thousand years until the skeleton itself rubbed away to dust. What are you that makes me feel thus? Who are you for whom time has no meaning?

The particularness of someone who mattered enough to grieve over is not made anodyne by death. This hole in my heart is in the shape of you and no-one else can fit it. Why would I want them to?

I became obsessed with anatomy. If I could not put Louise out of my mind I would drown myself in her. Within the clinical language, through the dispassionate view of the sucking, sweating, greedy, defecating self, I found a love-poem to Louise. I would go on knowing her, more intimately than the skin, hair and voice that I craved. I would have her plasma, her spleen, her synovial fluid. I would recognise her even when her body had long since fallen away.

Yet I wish I had a cat.

Zina iÅŸlediÄŸimi biliyordum çünkü sevdiÄŸim ÅŸey evimin d???ndayd?.

Someone you loved and what happened. That's all there is when you dig in your pockets.

Passion is sweeter split strand by strand.

Is it because she will return that I take pleasure in being alone? Hopeless heart that thrives on paradox; that longs for the beloved and is secretly relieved when the beloved is not there.

Annem elimin kitaba deÄŸmesini istemiyordu.Kitaplar?n içine bal?klama dalaca??m akl?na bile gelmedi-saklanmak için kendimi onlara hapsedeceÄŸim de.

De ce masura iubirii este pierderea ei?

I love you, he says. I want to hold this moment. I want to believe it. I want his love to have enough salt in it to float me. I don't want to be swimming for my life. I want to trust him. I don't trust him.

He had seen the vision of perfect heroism and, for a fleeting moment, the vision of perfect peace. He sought it again, to balance him. He was a warrior who longed to grow herbs.

She grew in secret, away from their eyes. Outwardly she was obedient and loving, but inside she was feeding a hunger—

We are a lukewarm people and our longing for freedom is our longing for love. If we had the courage to love we would not so value these acts of war.

You might reason that you can easily feed a leopard and that your garden is big enough, but you will know in your dreams at least that no leopard is ever satisfied with what it is given. After nine nights must come ten and every desperate meeting only leaves you desperate for another. There is never enough to eat, never enough garden for your love.

I would love you as a bird loves flight, as meat loves salt, as a dog loves chase, as water finds its own level. Or I would not love you at all.

yet when she first left me i thought i had blood poisoning ,i couldn't forget her,now she seemed to have forgotten everything .it made me want to shake her ,to pull all my clothes in the middle of the street and yell remember this body time is a great deadener ,people forget, get bored, grow old , go away. she said that not much had happened between us anyway, historically speaking

If I could have seen her just once again I should have been content to die at that moment.

On pouvait la voir sans l'aimer, mais non pas la posséder sans l'adorer.

down the stone steps to the windswept beach, her raven tresses flowing out behind her. She scanned the empty sands, and when she saw no sign of Blaine, a great cry of anguish escaped her lips. She could not live without him! She would sooner die!

Every time she thought about him, she felt a thud of pain, like a bruised place inside her.

I'm not upset because I'll miss you," Mom said. "I'm upset because you get to go to New York and I'm stuck here. It's not fair.

Some love too little, some too long, Some sell, and others buy; Some do the deed with many tears, And some without a sigh: For each man kills the thing he loves, Yet each man does not die.