Quotes About Longing

I felt raw and bruised. Severed in some vital part, as always when parted from Jamie for very long, but also as though I had been violently ejected from my home, like a barnacle ripped from its rock and heedlessly tossed into boiling surf.

my heart went to water and drained from my chest.

The thought of that would come to me sometimes, and I would think I kent what Jesus must feel like there—so wanting, and no one to touch Him.

remembering so acutely Jamie's flesh and weight and ardor, and so urgently wanted him to be Jamie that I had succeeded for an instant in thinking that he was, only to be crushed like a grape at the realization that he wasn't, all my soft insides spurting out. Had he felt or thought the same things, waking to find me there beside him?

I wish Jane would haunt me." The words weren't much above a whisper, but I heard it clearly enough, and my heart clenched. The memory of that sort of wish—the bone-deep need to have contact of any sort, a longing that harrowed the soul, a hollowness that could never be filled—struck me so hard that I couldn't speak.

Does it ever stop? The wanting you? Even when I just left ye, I want you so much my chest feels tight and my fingers ache with wanting to touch ye again.

Jamie's back was turned to me, but Lord John faced the hallway; he could have seen me easily, had he looked. He wasn't looking toward the hallway, though. He was staring at Jamie, and on his face was a look of such naked hunger that the blood rushed to my own cheeks when I saw it. I dropped my fan. I saw the Governor's head turn, startled at the sound. Then I was running down the hall, back toward the salon, my heartbeat drumming in my ears.

He could hear Jamie's breath, or thought he could—it seemed part of the soft wind that touched his face. He could smell Jamie, smell the musk of his body, the dried sweat and dust in his clothes, and felt suddenly wolflike and feral, longing changed to outright hunger. He wanted. Master me, he thought, breathing deep, or shall I your master be?

As the world turns toward winter and the nights grow long, people begin to wake in the dark. Lying in bed too long cramps the limbs, and dreams dreamt too long turn inward on themselves, grotesque as a Mandarin's fingernails. By and large, the human body isn't adapted for more than seven or eight hours' sleep—but what happens when the nights are longer than that?

I Ã¢â'¬Â¦ just came." The need to find out as much as I could made me add the little else I knew. "I think—I think it has something to do with being able to fix your mind on a certain person who's in the time you go to." Her

He had them often, in varying forms, and it always unsettled him the day after, as though for a moment Claire had really been near enough to touch, and then had drawn away again.

Thought of the general drew his fragmented thoughts together, a magnet in a scatter of loose iron filings. Someone to depend on…a man to share the burden…he wanted that, above all things. "Oh, God," he whispered, and moths touched his face, gentle in the dark.

Whether it was health of mind or body, the love of him was necessary to me as breath or blood. My mind reached out for him, sleeping or waking, and finding him, was satisfied.

in her voice that

Do you know, what it is to love someone, and never be able to give them peace, or joy, or happiness? To know that you cannot give them happiness, not through any fault of yours or theirs, but only because you were not born the right person for them?

The memory of that sort of wish--the bone-deep need to have contact of any sort, a longing that harrowed the soul, a hollowness that could not be filled--struck me so hard that I couldn't speak. Jamie had haunted me--in spite of all my efforts to immerse myself in the life I had. Would I have found the strength to come back, if he hadn't remained as a constant presence in my heart, in my dreams?

The lines of stress in Grey's face eased a little. "I see," he said slowly. "So—you have not seen him since—my God, that's twenty years!" He stared at me, dumbfounded. "And four months? Why—how—" He shook his head, brushing away the questions.

If the loss of Ian haunts my dreams, the loss of you haunts my days, Jamie.

It was no random choice that invoked his name to cure me. Whether it was health of mind or body, the love of him was necessary to me as breath or blood. My mind reached out for him, sleeping or waking, and finding him, was satisfied. My body and glowed, and as it came to full life, hungered for his.

If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day, so I never have to live without you," he said. "What?" she said, startled. "Who said that?" "Should I be hurt that you didn't think it was me?" he said, laughing. "It's A. A. Milne. From Winnie-the-Pooh, if you can believe it.

Dear God," he said, still softly. "I couldna look at ye, Sassenach, and keep my hands from you, nor have ye near me, and not want ye." He lifted his head then, and planted a kiss over my heart, then let his hand float down the gentle curve of my belly, lightly tracing the small marks left there by Brianna's birth.

Our friends are barometers of our own lives: We look to our BFFs to better understand how we're doing ourselves. Our friends help us make sense of what we have, what we aspire to, and what we truly long for.

I have always wanted a dog, but we don't have anyone to care for it.

Growing up, I always wanted a dog, but my parents never wanted one.