Quotes About Longing

This morning I heard : the hesitancy in her voice wasn't ordinary sincerity but a lot of it, and her tone wasn't only friendly, it was intimate, private, longing . The words, quiet and simple as they were, were strong, deep tosses that landed close, and loud.

The gratification of desire is not happiness.

She longed for a letter that was for her and her alone, a letter which would give her some glimpse into his heart.

If he had to wish, what would he wish for, he asked himself. What was there to wish for... a wish asked for the unattainable. The impossible.

Few people arise in the morning as hungry for God as they are for cornflakes or toast and eggs.

He used to tell himself although he knew it wasn't true that the air around her house was different because it was near to her.

Come back Kareen you'll choke you'll fill up like I'm filling up. You'll go down Kareen watch out please watch out. Come back Kareen. You're gone. You weren't even there.

But he would like to feel that he was breathing the same air she breathed that he was in the same country she was in.

They died crying in their minds like little babies. They forgot the thing they were fighting for the thing they were dying for. They thought about things a man can understand. They died yearning for the face of a friend. They died whimpering for the voice of a mother a father a wife a child. They died with their hearts sick for one more look at the place where they were born please god just one more look.

Nostalgia is the only friend that stays with you forever.

You never know how much you need music until you don't have it. I missed it so much my heart hurt.

I miss the snow. I miss looking at it, walking in it, tasting it. I used to love those days when it was so cold everyone else would be tucked away inside trying to stay warm. I would be the only one out walking, so I could look across the fields and see miles of snow without a single footprint in it. It would be completely silent -- no cars, no birds singing, no doors slamming. Just silence and snow. God, I miss snow. The stars, the moon, the wind, and blankets of pure, pristine snow.

Can you believe it's been over seventeen years since I've touched snow? Since I've heard that soft, comforting sound it makes as it crunches beneath your boots? It won't be much longer. I can feel it in my bones. Soon I'll have snow again. I'll stand in it and look up at the stars until I can no longer feel my feet.

The shorter story; No love, no glory; No hero in her skies.

You know when you've found it that's something I've learned, cause you feel it when they take it away.

But the part of ourselves we hate the most is our longing to be wanted and enjoyed.

I had this urge to give Andrea a kiss!

Three months is 12 weeks. That's 12 whole weeks with no Andrea! I got a calculator for Christmas, and I figured it out. Twelve weeks times 7 days in a week is 84 days. That's 84 days with no Andrea! And 84 days times 24 hours in a day is 2,016 hours. That's 2,016 hours with no Andrea! And 2,016 hours times 60 minutes in an hour is 120,960 minutes. That's 120,960 minutes with no Andrea! And 120,960 minutes times 60 seconds in a minute is 7,257,600 seconds.

I'll die without junk food.

If you don't get what you want, you suffer; if you get what you don't want, you suffer; even when you get exactly what you want, you still suffer because you can't hold on to it forever.

If you don't get what you want, you suffer; if you get what you don't want, you suffer; even when you get exactly what you want, you still suffer because you can't hold on to it forever.

One person simply can't be all things to another person – sexually or otherwise—and unmet needs, unfulfilled desire, and unexplored possibilities are prices we pay to be in LTRs (long –term relationships). Monogamous, polyamorous, Femdom, or whatever: All couples people walk around feeling a little unfulfilled. (Single people, too). Because no one gets everything they want.

If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.7 — C. S. Lewis

And memory insists on pining For places it never went, As if life would be happier Just by being different.