Quotes About Longing

Det, mente hun, var hendes egentlige Væsen, det, som de rette Omgivelser vilde gjøre hende til, og hun drømte tusinde Drømme om hine sollyse Egne og fortæredes af Længsel efter sit rette, rige Jeg, og glemte, hvad der ligger saa nær at glemme, at selv de fagreste Drømme, selv de dybeste Længsler ikke lægger en eneste Tomme til Menneskeaandens Vækst.

The only time I think about life beyond F1 is when I contemplate becoming a dad. But there's no way that's going to happen while I'm still racing. To be successful in F1 you need to be very selfish in lots of ways and you're away from home for long periods. That's not the kind of father I want to be.

I've been writing more songs in my head," he said, "about being a ghost and a shade." His face turned smooth and solemn. "How I'd die all over again just to touch you.

Hey, it's not like I was saving myself for the day you had a body again, so don't get excited." "Too late." He curved his fingers around my jaw and kissed me, hard enough to turn my limbs to liquid fire.

I have a boyfriend who's a ghost, I thought. Of course I'm living in a dreamworld.

He whispered against my mouth. "Wait for me, Aura.

This one's for Aura. You all know who that is by now. The only girl I've ever loved. I wrote her a song, but she's the only one who's ever heard it, or ever will.

With my eyes closed and my memories open, I could almost feel his hands and mouth on my skin.

Logan was close enough for me to touch, to smell, to feel his breath on my forehead. Close enough to kiss. If only he were alive.

Shane closes his eyes and groans deep in his throat, a noise that embodies sex and death. His back arches, and his fingers rake the carpet as if to pull it up like grass.

But in the depth of Zachary's weary, determined eyes, I saw more than a desperate longing. I saw a future.

Run" was a song about grasping for happiness just out of reach, about endless, temporary good-byes. A song only a ghost should sing.

Hot dog? Bible? Now that poses a problem! Which is hungrier-my stomach or my soul?

It is perhaps not as self-evident as our desire for happiness, but it is nearly as obvious that normal human beings have a deep yearning to love and to be loved. The countless love songs that pervade our culture, as well as the love poems and songs from centuries past, are eloquent testimony to the human longing for love.

We long to be found, hoping our searchers have not given up and gone home.

You occupied my space. But because you were not in my present, when I looked into my future I saw . . . nothing. Isn't that sad? And stupid?

A tiny butter knife slices more skin off my heart every time I think about her.

Still... I would have hugged my mother if we were the kind of family who hugged. If touching her weren't impossible. If her subnightie waft was not so utterly, fatally repulsive. That's how much I loved her.

If I closed my eyes, I could almost count those soft hairs on the back of her neck. One day I'd even leaned forward, pretending to drop my pencil, and inhaled her until the top of my head started to steam. A scent of butterscotch wafted off of her, and it was all I could do not to plunge my face into her shag.

Maybe the reason you can never go home again is that, once you're back, you can never leave...

There's a place beyond words where experience first occurs to which I always want to return.

La ausencia de las hermanas Gómez me dio duro, las extrañé más de lo normal, eso causó en mí un dolor difícil de superar.

No puedo olvidarla» se repite con un susurro apagado, sujetando la cara entre sus manos, tratando de sepultar el pasado.

Veo a los lejos, el árbol de eucalipto, donde algún día ya olvidado, bese a la mujer que me enamoró por primera vez, y con la que mi cuerpo, tuvo la primera explosión volcánica, y a quién jamás vi o conocí personalmente, sino es, por la vieja foto de almanaque.