Quotes About Longing

Sin ti la poesía ya no me dice nada, y nada tengo que decirle a ella.

So I suppose I do not know how he really looked, and, in fact, I suppose I shall never know, now, for he was plainly an object created in the mode of fantasy. His image was already present somewhere in my head and I was seeking to discover it in actuality, looking at every face I met in case it was the right face - that is, the face which corresponded to my notion of the unseen face of the one I should love, a face created parthenogeneticallyby the rage to love which consumed me.

I am the lady of the castle. My name is exile. My name is anguish. My name is longing. Far from the world on the windy crests of the mountain, I am kept in absolute seclusion, my time passes in an endless reverie, a perpetual swooning. I am both the Sleeping Beauty and the enchanted castle; the princess drowses in the castle of her flesh.

Time was his servant, too; it would trap me, here, in a night that would last until he came back to me, like a black sun on a hopeless morning.

Perhaps...I could not be content with mere contentment!

The touch of her hand filled me with a wild loneliness.

Then I understood the thing I'd never grasped back in those days, when I was young, before I lived in history. When I was young, I'd wanted to be ephemeral, I'd wanted the moment, to live in just the glorious moment, the rush of blood, the applause. Pluck the day. Eat the peach. Tomorrow never comes. But, oh yes, tomorrow does come all right, and when it comes it lasts a bloody long time, I can tell you.

Palyaço maskesinin alt?nda yatan o yüz, uzun y?llar önce tan???p sevilmiÅŸ, sonra da kaybedilmiÅŸ, ÅŸimdi de yeniden bulunmuÅŸ bir sevgilinin yüzü. Onunla daha önce hç kar??laÅŸmam?? olmama, bana tümüyle yabanc? bir yüz olmas?na kar??n, görüp tan?mamdan bile önce vurgun olduÄŸum bir yüz bu. [sf 288]

I think I want to be in love with you but I don't know how.

She has no mouth with which to kiss, no hands with which to caress, only the fangs and talons of a beast of prey

I think I want to be in love with you but I don't know how.

Love is desire sustained by unfulfilment.

but a man in love is as restless as a lion and as impatient as a puppy.

There are some names that one can't even say in a normal voice because they lay open some nerve. I was frightfully in love with a woman once. Her name was Susan and she came from Norwich and she lived with her husband in Ovington Square. I fell out of love with her, and I haven't seen her or heard of her for years, but if I read or hear the words Susan, or Norwich, or Ovington, I go all queer.

If it were in his destiny, which he felt it never would be, to love and be loved, he could imagine a way of love quite different from what he had just seen.

Are you tired of hoping that someone else could fill the place that was meant for Me? Isee you, all of you, and you do not have to hide anymore. Isee your sin and I see your flaws and I still desire you as My own. I am crazy about you. Iam the answer for your longing. The "more" that your heart waits for is Me.

Pero no sé si le quiero. Nunca he sentido ante él aquel temblor que me agitaba cuando Ricardo se acercaba a mí, el deseo de besar mi almohada soñando que le besaba a él, el espantoso vacío de su ausencia…

His voice thick with lust, he said, "I want to drink from your white fountains, Samantha, and I will, whatever you do...

A veces deseo ser como mamá, que nunca tiene esa sensación de perderse algo, sensación que yo tengo tan a menudo y de forma tan dolorosa.

Septimus longed for a glimpse of Marcia. He wanted to see her face at the window, to know that she was all right... He longed to tell her that there was still hope. "Hold on as long as you can. Don't give up. Please don't give up.

Go to the Limits of Your Longing God speaks to each of us as he makes us, then walks with us silently out of the night. These are the words we dimly hear: You, sent out beyond your recall, go to the limits of your longing. Embody me. From The Book of Hours I, 59

You are wrong if you think you cannot live without love. I cannot live without it. I do not mean that I go into a decline, develop odd symptoms, became a caricature. I mean that I cannot live well without it. I cannot think or act or speak or write or even dream with any kind of energy in the absence of love. I feel excluded from the living world. I become cold, fish-like, immobile. I implode.

I have been aware of a boredom, a restlessness, that no ordinary friendship can satisfy: only an extraordinary one.

I reminded myself of someone, but someone I had not seen for a long time.