Quotes About Longing

Everyone talks about falling in love like it's the most miraculous, life-changing thing in the world. Something happens, they say, and you know. You look into the eyes of your beloved and see not only the person you'd always dreamed you'd meet, but the you you've always secretly believed in, the you that inspires longing and delight, the you no one else really noticed before.

And after a little while of this my brain and my body and every single inch of me that was alive was flooded with the feeling that I was starving, starving, starving for Edmond. And what a coincidence, that was the feeling I loved best in the world.

and Edmond blew smoke rings in the air and I closed my eyes and wished they were mine.

People could not get enough of what they had lost, even if they no longer wanted it.

And didn't it always go like that--body parts not lining up the way you wanted them to, all of it a little bit off, as if the world itself were an animated sequence of longing and envy and self-hatred and grandiosity and failure and success, a strange and endless cartoon loop that you couldn't stop watching, because, despite all you knew by now, it was still so interesting.

The generation that had information, but no context. Butter, but no bread. Craving, but no longing.

People like to warn you that by the time you reach the middle of your life, passion will begin to feel like a meal eaten long ago, which you remember with great tenderness.

I think that's what the people who change our lives always do. They give us permission to be the person we secretly really long to be but maybe don't feel we're allowed to be.

She knew what it was like to miss someone, for she missed Cory so continually and pressingly that the feeling was like its own shattering bass vibrating through her, and he was only 110 miles away at Princeton, not across the world.

We had a good marriage," he said. "I just thought it would be so much longer." Then he shrugged, and coughed away a sob, this thin man in his sixties with the soft androgynous face that aging seemed to bring, as though all the hormones were finally mixed up in a big coed pot because it just didn't matter anymore.

Because as you get older, life sort of eats away at you like battery acid, and all the things you once loved are suddenly harder to find. And when you do find them, you don't have time to enjoy them anymore, you know?

Belzhar este singurul mod în care fiecare dintre noi poate avea ceea ce î?i dore?te. Singurul mod în care putem ob?ine din nou lucrul pe care l-am pierdut.

age sixty-eight and still wanting love to exist in a pure column of light, still convinced that it could.

people could not get enough of what they'd lost, even if they no longer really wanted it.

The Buffalo nipple' became a secret phrase that referred not only to this specific event, but to any misguided action that a person might perform in life out of longing or weakness or fear, or pretty much out of anything human.

I wondered whether he might ever love me, and how I might rush that love into existence.

You want to know whether the problems that you teenagers feel–will they follow you over the rest of your lives? Will your hearts always be aching?

Someone has to love me," he said. "As far as I can tell, the job is currently unoccupied.

And didn't it always go like that - body parts not quite lining up the way you wanted them to, all of it a little bit off, as if the world itself were an animated sequence of longing and envy and self-hatred and grandiosity and failure and success, a strange and endless cartoon loop that you couldn't stop watching, because, despite all you knew by now, it was still so interesting.

Jonah couldn't tell her that what he wanted now, more than anything, was to fall asleep beside her. No touching, no kissing, no stimulation. No sensation, no consciousness. Just the act of sleeping beside someone you liked to be with. Maybe that was love.

Even not knowing that yet, she felt an intuitive urgency. What she wanted-- and wanted now-- was to be loved by someone who excited her.

We're all the same under our skin, aren't we? We're all wanting things we don't understand. Things we can't even name. The yearning so deep, like pinions over our hearts.

Like all that you are is the wanting, and the rest of you just burns away?

In some animal part of my brain, I guess I thought looking her up might somehow summon her. So I never did. And she came anyway.