Quotes About Longing

Natalia, una mujer joven no mayor de 30 años, lleva algo más de 15 abriles, esperando aquella carta que le prometió su madre

toca sus corazones, la piel empieza a transpirar a desear.

Those sweet lips. My, oh my, I could kiss those lips all night long. Good things come to those who wait.

Maybe you could be mine / or maybe we'll be entwined / aimless in this sexless foreplay.

It felt like ink and stars and magic, and I never wanted it to end.

But, don't you—" she began, than cut herself off as heat flooded her cheeks. "Want to fill your body with mine and make you scream?

He looked down at her and caught a whiff of the honeysuckle fragrance of her hair. God, how he loved that smell. He'd planted fourteen honeysuckle bushes around his estate in Crestwood five years ago just to have a tiny piece of her there with him.

And because he felt like he might burst open and because he lacked the dexterity in English to say all that he was thinking--how in his estimation, the more you lived the more regret and longing you suffered, that life was a glorious catastrophe--Pasquale Tursi said, only, "Yes.

Who isn't crazy sometimes? Who hasn't driven around a block hoping a certain person will come out; who hasn't haunted a certain coffee shop, or stared obsessively at an old picture; who hasn't toiled over every word in a letter, taken four hours to write a two-sentence email, watched the phone praying it will ring; who doesn't lay awake at night sick with the image of her sleeping with someone else?

A hermit always longs for visitors, said Loring,until they come, and then he wishes them gone.

Sadness is a feeling of loss. There is something one wanted, and one doesn't have it—or there is a way one wanted things to be, and things aren't that way. That is sadness. Instead, you feel rootlessness.

I am not simply missing one child who never grew, but two of them. I always know how old they'd be. What I do not know is who I might have been, had I become their mother.

Her laugh was a travesty. Which made sense because in a way, so was his apology. But what was he supposed to say? I want you until I hurt. Until I sweat. I love you with a raw, bleeding need that I've never understood. And all I know for sure is that you can never be mine.

I am a hopeless romantic.

Being human means yearning for more than subsistence. As much as food or shelter, we require hope.

How wonderful," he purred. "I've been longing to speak to you for days, Princess Cecelia." "And I've been wanting to kick you in the shin for days.

He held out his arm to her, and she took it, wishing that there were not quite such a discrepancy in their heights.

Love is about needing someone, about feeling as if the day isn't quite right if they're not there. Its about knowing that, no matter how bad a day you've had, the moment you see them again or hear their voice, the world is back in its place.

When I am home for like a two-year stretch, I get antsy, because I want to work.

I am tortured when I am away from my family, from my children. I am horribly guilt-ridden.

These are the outstanding questions that arise when we look at the human aspect of freedom, the longing for submission, and the lust for power: What is freedom as a human experience? Is the desire for freedom something inherent in human nature?

It was a melancholy secret that reality can arouse desires but never satisfy them.

I had the feeling of slipping down a smooth bottomless pit. It had nothing to do with Breuer and the people. It had nothing to do with Pat even. It was the melancholy secret that reality can arouse desires but never satisfy them; that love begins with a human being but does not end in him; and that everything can be there: a human being, love, happiness, life — and that yet in some terrible way it is always too little, and grows ever less the more it seems.

but that's what mankind is like: they only prize what they no longer possess.