Quotes About Longing

Homer Wells cried because he'd never known how nice a father's kisses could be, and he cried because he doubted that Wilbur Larch would ever do it again-or would have done it, if he'd thought Homer was awake.

I remember when you kissed me, he wrote to Dr. Larch. I wasn't really asleep. Yes, thought Dr. Larch, I remember that, too. He rested in the dispensary. Why didn't I kiss him more-why not all the time?

You cannot conceive how I ache to be with you: how I would die for one hour...

I wish I was either in your arms full of faith, or that a Thunder bolt would strike me.

Touch has a memory. O say, love, say, What can I do to kill it and be free?

I never was in love - yet the voice and the shape of a woman has haunted me these two days.

To feel forever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever-or else swoon in death.

This living hand, now warm and capable Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold And in the icy silence of the tomb, So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights That thou would wish thine own heart dry of blood, So in my veins red life might stream again, And thou be conscience-calm'd. See, here it is-- I hold it towards you.

Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death...

Already with thee! tender is the night. . . But here there is no light. . .

My mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it.... I never felt my mind repose upon anything with complete and undistracted enjoyment- upon no person but you. When you are in the room my thoughts never fly out of window: you always concentrate my whole senses

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thy happiness,—- That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.

O let me lead her gently o'er the brook, Watch her half-smiling lips and downward look; O let me for one moment touch her wrist; Let me one moment to her breathing list; And as she leaves me, may she often turn Her fair eyes looking through her locks auburne.

When shall we pass a day alone? I have had a thousand kisses, for which with my whole soul I thank love - but if you should deny me the thousand and first - 'twould put me to the proof how great a misery I could live through.

I have clung To nothing, lov'd a nothing, nothing seen Or felt but a great dream!

Forlorn! the very word is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self! Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music:—do I wake or sleep?

O aching time! O moments big as years!

You are to me an object so intensely desirable that the air I breathe in a room empty of you is unhealthy

If I am destined to be happy with you here -- how short is the longest Life.

I could centre my Happiness in you, I cannot expect to engross your heart so entirely -- indeed if I thought you felt as much for me as I do for you at this moment I do not think I could restrain myself from seeing you again tomorrow for the delight of one embrace. But no -- I must live upon hope and Chance. In case of the worst that can happen, I shall still love you -- but what hatred shall I have for another!

I burn'd And ached for wings

The air I breathe in a room empty of you is unhealthy.

I can bear to die - I cannot bear to leave her.

For so delicious were the words she sung,it seem'd he had loved them a whole summer long.