Quotes About Longing

Moon, moon, when you leave me alone all the darkness is an utter blackness, a pit of fear, a stench, hands unreasonable never to touch. But I love you. Do you love me. What to say when you see me.

The awful thing, as a kid reading, was that you came to the end of the story, and that was it. I mean, it would be heartbreaking that there was no more of it.

Now love also becomes a reward so remote from me I have only made it with my mind.

I regard longings for twinship or emotional kinship as being reactive to emotional trauma, with its accompanying feelings of singularity, estrangement, and solitude.

I have so fiercely dreamed of youAnd walked so far and spoken of you so,Loved a shade of you so hardThat now I've no more left of you.

I have dreamed of you so much that you are no longer real. Is there still time for me to reach your breathing body, to kiss your mouth and make your dear voice come alive again? I have dreamed of you so much that my arms, grown used to being crossed on my chest as I hugged your shadow, would perhaps not bend to the shape of your body. For faced with the real form of what has haunted me and governed me for so many days and years, I would surely become a shadow.

Elle tourna vers moi les yeux à cet instant, mais je n'ose y croire, ce regard fut-il un aveu. Ne me dites pas qu'elle est belle, elle est émouvante. Sa vue imprime à mon coeur un mouvement plus rapide, son absence emplit mon esprit.

One kind kiss before we part, Drop a tear, and bid adieu; Though we sever, my fond heart Till we meet shall pant for you.

Dan's smell lingered on the pillow. He'd been a gentle and patient lover, his hands firm but his touch soft, just as she'd imagined. He'd given her time to relax, to free her mind until she was no longer thinking, just reacting to the motion of his body and the touch of his hands. When she'd climaxed, she'd clung to him, not wanting the feeling, or him, to leave her.

Hamilton thrust his hands into his pockets. "Home

Sleep was like sex. The less you had, the more you craved it, and Tracy Crosswhite hadn't had much of either lately.

Sleep was like sex. The less you had, the more you craved it, and Tracy Crosswhite hadn't had much of either lately. She stretched

One of the most fundamental problems in the spiritual order is that we sense within ourselves the hunger for God, but we attempt to satisfy it with some created good that is less than God. Thomas Aquinas said that the four typical substitutes for God are wealth, pleasure, power, and honor.

Why is this happening? Perhaps as you climb into bed alone, you find yourself longing for a warm body or the sense of security of sharing a bed, a home. What you might not have realized, especially in the immediate emotional aftermath of divorce, is that these seemingly conflicting emotions really are connected. They all are a part of your grief.

Never be like a prostitute, going from guru to guru, deity to deity, never select¬ ing one as a true lover. Be like the Cataka bird, that drinks water only when the Swati asterism is in the sky. Never be happy anywhere but where your beloved is, whatever you may choose to love. Then you can get Siddhi—not otherwise.

The world is a bitter thing For a dreaming heart to bear alone.

Love is the desire to be irresistibly desired.

A poem… begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It is never a thought to begin with. It is at its best when it is a tantalizing vagueness.

Love is an irresistable desire to be irresistably desired.

A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.

Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.

It's harder to talk about, but what I really, really, really want for Christmas is just this: I want to be 5 years old again for an hour. I want to laugh a lot and cry a lot. I want to be picked or rocked to sleep in someone's arms, and carried up to be just one more time. I know what I really want for Christmas: I want my childhood back. People who think good thoughts give good gifts.

But they had already tried, again and again and again, and always, when the first crashing wave of mutual longing subsided, the ugly wreck of the past lay revealed again, its shadow lying darkly over everything they tried to rebuild.

The feel of her was both new and familiar, as though he had held her a long time ago, as though he had missed it without knowing it for years.