Quotes About Longing

As suddenly as they had reached for each other, they broke apart. Tears were rolling down Robin's face. For one moment of madness, Strike yearned to say, "Come with me", but there are words that can never be unsaid or forgotten, and those, he knew, were some of them.

With a twist in his chest, and in spite of his satisfaction at having done what he'd set out to do, he wished he could have called Joan, and told her the end of Margot Bamborough's story, and heard her say she was proud of him, one last time.

Except . . . she remembered how much pleasure it had given her to see him sitting in Notes Café, after a week's absence, and how happy she was, no matter the circumstances, to see Strike's name light up her phone.

The difficulty of merging two lives, of waiting for the soulmate who never arrived, of craving both freedom and love.

Let's try again.' 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.

I'm so full of drugs I cant feel anything but I know I love you. I wonder how much they'd have to give me before that went too. Engouh to kill me I suppose.

Id rather die than have more. Actually I'd rather die than most things. But you know that about me. Will I ever see you again? You could come and see me here. Today I imagined you walking in, like I did when your leg. I imagined you telling them to let me go because you loved me and you'd look after me. I cried . . .

fancy you since you first took off your coat in this office. I try not to give names to what I feel for you, because I already know it's too much, and I want peace from the shit that love brings in its wake. I want to be alone, and unburdened, and free.

I try not to give names to what I feel for you, because I already know it's too much, and I want peace from the shit that love brings in its wake. I want to be alone, and unburdened, and free.

An image of Charlotte hung permanently in Robin's head these days, like a shadowy portrait she'd never wanted hung . . . Last night, though, that image had become stark and fixed: a darkly romantic vision of a lost and dying love, breathing her final words in Strike's ear as she lay among the trees.

Tylko ?e ju? próbowali, a potem znowu, znowu i znowu. Po jakim? czasie pierwsza pot??na fala wzajemnej t?sknoty cofa?a si? i zawsze ods?ania?a paskudny wrak przesz?o?ci, którego mroczny cie? k?ad? si? na wszystkim, co usi?owali odbudowa?.

Love never comes but at love's call, And pity asks for him in vain; Because I cannot give you all, You give me nothing back again.

I know not what can ease my pains, Nor what it is I wish; The passion at my heart-strings strains Like a tiger in a leash.

know not what can ease my pains, Nor what it is I wish; The passion at my heart-strings strains Like a tiger in a leash.

he'd wanted to keep a channel of communication open between himself and Charlotte, because he wanted to know she couldn't forget him, any more than he could forget her. It was time to cut that last, thin thread.

of waiting for the soulmate who never arrived, of craving both freedom and love.

If you don't receive love from the ones who are meant to love you, you will never stop looking for it.

There is an ache in my heart for the imagined beauty of a life I haven't had, from which I had been locked out, and it never goes away.

I would give anything, anything, to be the man to whom this has not happened. I can not accommodate myself to it. In a lifetime of trying, I can not accommodate myself to it. And now I will have to be that person forever.

If love drove people mad, what would lack of love do?

She was the beautiful, lethal, insinuating spider he had waited for all his life.

Every exchange making him feel like an idiot, making him draw his spine up straight and making him fiddle with his hair, and all he wanted to do was to see her naked on the floor. Not brutal, not unkind, enraptured.

desire had its exaggerated and dramatic pleasures, but he was bored by the endless scenes and recantations. Love was simply the same steady heartbeat hour after hour. It bored him with its lack of event.

She was the beautiful, lethal,insinuating spider he had waited for all his life. She was the final knife in his heart. He opened his heart with gladness.