Quotes About Longing

How was it that homesickness could be more painful than a bullet wound?

I could not think of anything but his fingers on my neck, his thumb on my lips.

I slowed my pace. Years of hauling water, wringing out clothes, scrubbing floors, emptying chamber pots, with no chance of beauty or color or light in my life, stretched before me like a landscape of flat land where, a long way off, the sea is visible but can never be reached.

We want so much, When perhaps we live best In the spaces between loves, That unconscious roving, The heart its own rough animal. Unfettered.

When some people talk about money They speak as if it were a mysterious lover Who went out to buy milk and never Came back, and it makes me nostalgic For the years I lived on coffee and bread, Hungry all the time, walking to work on payday Like a woman journeying for water From a village without a well, then living One or two nights like everyone else On roast chicken and red wine.

some like to imagine a cosmic mother watching through a spray of stars, mouthing 'yes, yes' as we toddle towards the light, biting her lip of we teeter at some ledge. longing to sweep us to her breast, she hopes for the best.

It used to be, you'd open your mouth And the weather changed. You'd Open your mouth and the sky'd spill That dry, missing-someone kind of rain No matter the season. And it hurt Like a guitar hurts under the right hands. Like a good strong spell. Now You're all song. Body gone to memory. And guess what? It hurts Harder.

And what would we do, you and I, if we could know for sure That someone was there squinting through the dust, Saying nothing is lost, that everything lives on waiting only To be wanted back badly enough?

You lack freedom, so you fantasize about it.

I know what it feels like to miss everything about him--the way he smells, the way his mouth curls up when he laughs, his voice.

Nicholas lay with his hands on his chest, thinking how hollow it felt, like an empty gourd. He had never missed having a family, though he had wanted one all his life.

Right where we are this moment, in the midst of whatever loneliness we may be facing, God meets us and holds out a hand of friendship. At the heart of the Christian faith lies an extravagant, grace-filled, and mind-blowing offer. God passionately longs to be friends with us.

She longed for the hour when she could relax and release the breath she seemed to have been holding for years. She

you have to let the one you love go, so that if they come back to you, you know that they are yours forever

La muerte era eso: no ver más a alguien. O no haber visto nunca a alguien.

But I will confess that I began as an astronomer—a liking for bright flashes, vast distances, unreachable things, a hand stretched always toward the furthest limit— and that my longing for you has not taken me very far from that original desire to inscribe a comet's orbit around the walls of our city, to gently stroke the surface of the stars.

Friendship? What friendship? I lust after him and he rightly ignores it!

As a child I experienced loss for what I felt was withheld from me: the delicious milk, the mountains of flowers I could not roll in, the cousins I could not play with, a beautiful house on a plateau. As the years grew with me, I became aware of absences that impacted me directly and indirectly: the loss of place, of stories, of family and of citizenship.

In our culture we are taught that hopes are good. But really our hopes are often based on fears. Take a moment and think about your greatest hope. What do you really long for? Then think about your greatest fear. Aren't they the opposite sides of the same coin, both of which generate tension? I hope for love, and I fear loneliness. I hope for success, and I fear poverty. I hope for praise, and I fear criticism.

obsession with beauty (longing for beauty / fear of aging).

Our hopes are our gods. Gods create struggles similar to our battles with demons, except they are attempts to get something rather than get away from something. Gods are involved with struggles of desire and longing rather than aversion. It is important to distinguish between an inspiration, which triggers positive energy and optimism without great attachment or tension involved, and a god, which is connected to longing for something, or being obsessed with a certain outcome.

Though a country be sundered, hills and rivers endure; And spring comes green again to trees and grasses Where petals have been shed like tears And lonely birds have sung their grief. ... After the war-fires of three months, One message from home is worth a ton of gold. ... I stroke my white hair. It has grown too thin To hold the hairpins any more.

Callum's pull is irresistible now. He needs him. Adam is falling desperately, physically, finally in love, and suddenly it feels like a very long way to fall. Please catch me, he thinks. Please be there when I land.

All my life I have desperately wanted an ugly necklace.