Quotes About Longing

All of us, Mma Ramotswe thought, wanted something, even if we were unable to tell anybody exactly what it was that we wanted.

She wanted everything back, as we do sometimes in our irrationality and regret; we want it all back.

i cuori degli uomini che sono molto lontani dal loro Paese sono pieni di tristezze.

She was crying because she was far from home, and who among us has never wanted to do that? There need be no other reason; just that. We cry for home, and for flowers on tables, and biscuits in little tins, and for mother; and we feel embarrassed, and foolish too, that we should be crying for such things; but we should not feel that way because all of us, in a sense, have strayed from home, and wish to return.

the truth sometimes seemed too thin to satisfy our yearnings.

For that was a very special sort of love, she realised—love given back to one who loved you; that love was like the first rain, the longed-for rain, which washed away the pain and sadness of the world so that you forgot that those things had ever been there.

It was very sweet revenge, indeed. It was compensation for the garlic that was never to be. It was about garlic, and yearning, and disappointment, and justice. It was about so many things.

We've got to have forbidden fruit, Or Eden's joys for us are moot.

Eu te-am iubit ÅŸi poate c? iubirea În suflet înc? nu s-a stins de tot; Dar nici neliniÅŸte ÅŸi nici tristeÅ£e Ea nu îÅ£i va mai da, aÅŸa socot. F?r? cuvinte te-am iubit, f?r? n?dejde, De gelozie, de sfial? chinuit. Dea Domnul s? mai fii cîndva iubit? AÅŸa adînc, aÅŸa gingaÅŸ cum te-am iubit.

Que je voulais, dans quelle fièvre Toucher ses pieds, du bout des lèvres

You interpret my heart, my nature, as you wish to believe it. In truth, I have no secret longing to be saved from myself.

Mutluluk için doÄŸmad?m ben; Ruhum yabanc?d?r buna; Fayda yok yetkin halinizden: Ben lay?k deÄŸilim ona. Ä°nan?n(vicdan bir güvence) Evlilik büyük bir iÅŸkence. Size duysam da s?cakl?k, SoÄŸuk tutar al??kanl?k; AÄŸlars?n?z: o yaÅŸlar benim Dokunmaz hiç yüreÄŸime, Döndürür beni deliye. Hangi gülleri,karar verin, Hymenaios bize haz?rlar Belki de çok uzun y?llar!

Apaixonou-se por arvoredos, Pela solidão das terras nuas, Por noites de estrelas, pela lua.

I longed for you so avidly.

My goddesses! You vanished faces! Oh, hearken to my woeful call: Have other maidens gained your places, Yet not replaced you after all? (12)

I've lived to see my longings die I've lived to se my longings die: My dreams and I have grown apart; Now only sorrow haunts my eye, The wages of a bitter heart. Beneath the storms of hostile fate, My flowery wreath has faded fast; I live alone and sadly wait To see when death will come at last. Just so, when the winds in winter moan And snow descends in frigid flakes, Upon a naked branch, alone, The final leaf of summer shakes!

I've lived to see my longings die I've lived to see my longings die: My dreams and I have grown apart; Now only sorrow haunts my eye, The wages of a bitter heart. Beneath the storms of hostile fate, My flowery wreath has faded fast; I live alone and sadly wait To see when death will come at last. Just so, when the winds in winter moan And snow descends in frigid flakes, Upon a naked branch, alone, The final leaf of summer shakes!...

Man loves in order to live in another a life missing in himself, for perhaps love does love what it lacks: we want to be what we love, even if what we love wants us to be, when we love, what we are.

If only' repeated again and again in her head like a battering ram...'if only' could break your heart.

Joy to hearts which have suffered long is like the dew on the ground after a long drought; both the heart and the ground absorb that beneficent moisture falling on them, and nothing is outwardly apparant.

We'll go where the air is pure, where all sounds are soothing, where, no matter how proud one may be, one feels humble and finds oneself small- in short, we'll go to the sea. I love the sea as one loves a mistress and I long for her when I haven't seen her for some time

You were able to wait,' said Dantes, sighing. 'Your long labor gave you a constant occupation, and when you didn't have your work to distract you, you had your hopes to console you.

Life is no more than the repeated fulfilling of a permanent desire.

The voice of human nature is nothing but one prolonged cry.