Quotes About Longing

I long for him most during these hot moonless nights. I lie awake, hot, the growing fires of passion bursting, blazing in my heart.

Although there is not one moment without longing, still, how strange this autumn twilight is. — Ono no Komachi, The Ink Dark Moon tr. by Jane Hirshfield with Mariko Aratani (Vintage Classics, 1990)

Did you come to me because I dropped off to sleep, tormented by love? If I had known I dreamed, I would not have awakened.

For if a lover's face survives emblazoned on your heart, the world is still your home.

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing. It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing The Invitation by Oriah

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for – and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing. It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool – for love – for your dreams – for the adventure of being alive.

The Creator has not given you a longing to do that which you have no ability to do.

You are mine, but you are not mine. I am yours, but you hardly know it.

The lights of the little café had signaled and called to his heart that, across the wasteland of the earth, there was home.

You miss her, don't you?" "Yes.

To break free from this vexatious and awful never-ending cycle, this flood of outrageous thoughts, and to long for nothing more than simply to sleep—how clean, how pure, the mere thought of it is exhilarating.

One day, I went to a soba restaurant outside town, and while I was waiting for the zarusoba I opened an old graph magazine. There was a picture of an exhausted, lonely kneeling woman who wore a checked patterned yukata after the tradegy of a large earthquake. With the intensity of my chest ready to burn up, I fell in love with that poor woman. I also felt a horrifying desire for her. Maybe tragedy and desire are back to back to one another.

I yearned with such desperation for "freedom" that I became weak and tearful.

I slept quietly so that I would breathe without coughing, and felt a curious indifference. I even felt like I had been waiting for that night for a long time. The words "heart's desire" came to mind.

Father was talking with a guest in the next room, and my words were meant for him. Needless to say, they never reached his ear, let alone his heart.

As for love … no, having once written that word I can write nothing more.

I missed my older sister, or people I used to be friends with, or people I hadn't seen in a long time. I cannot stand mornings because it seems I am always bleakly reminded of long-gone times, and people I used to know, and their presences feel eerily close, like the scent of pickled radish that you just can't get rid of.

The night has dawned. I have made you suffer a long time. Good-bye. My drunkenness from last night has entirely worn off. I shall die sober. Once more, good-bye. Kazuko. I am, after all, an aristocrat.

Everyone loves you. You're just asking for too much.

Poverty is nothing. As long as you love me, all I want is to spend my whole life by your side. But you love Naoji more than you love me, don't you?

I yearned for everything long gone

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