Quotes About Longing

This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven.

I have Immortal longings in me.

You're in love? Out Out of love? I love someone. She doesn't love me.

A thousand times good night. A thousand times the worse, to want thy light. Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books, but love from love, toward school with heavy looks.

Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.

Make me a willow cabin at your gate And call upon my soul within the house; Write loyal cantons of contemned love And sing them loud even in the dead of night; Hallo your name to the reverberate hills And make the babbling gossip of the air Cry out Olivia! O, you should not rest Between the elements of air and earth But you should pity me

The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch Which hurts and is desired.

Hear my soul speak: The very instant that I saw you did My heart fly to your service, there resides to make me slave to it, and for your sake Am I this patient log-man.

Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty look, repeats his words, Remembers me of his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form

O, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note, to drown me in thy sister's flood of tears.

A lover goes toward his beloved as enthusiastically as a schoolboy leaving his books, but when he leaves his girlfriend, he feels as miserable as the schoolboy on his way to school. (Act 2, scene 2)

Love that we cannot have is the one that lasts the longest,hurts the deepest,but feels the strongest

She's Love, she loves, and yet she is not lov'd.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

I 'gin to be aweary of the sun, And wish th' estate o' th' world were now undone.

Oh, thou did'st then ne'er love so heartily. If thou rememb'rest not the slightest folly That ever love did make thee run inot, Thou has not loved. Of if thou has't not sat as I do now, Wearying they hearer in thy mistress's praise, Thou has not loved. Of if thou hast not broke from company Abruptly, as my passion now makes me, Thou has not loved. (Silvius)

How shall I abide In this dull world, which in thy absence is No better than a sty?

I am gone, though I am here. There is no love in you. Nay, I pray you let me go.

I dote on his very absence.

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought...

And keep you in the rear of your affection, Out of the shot and danger of desire, The chariest maid is prodigal enough If she unmasks her beauty to the moon.

When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again?

Praising what is lost makes the remembrance dear

A kiss, long as my exile, as sweet as my revenge.