Quotes About Longing

And just how many city skylines Could have evoked my tears, But I know just one city in the world, And I can find it, blindfolded, in a dream.

The earthly glory is like smoke, I wanted much more than this. In all my lovers I evoked The feelings of joy and bliss. One is still in love somewhere With a friend from long ago, The other stands in the city square,- A statue of bronze in the snow.

The first ray -- as the blessing of the Lord -- Across the face of the beloved did creep, Who, sleeping, went a little pale, And then again more tightly went to sleep. It seemed that warmth of ray of sun Appeared to him just like a kiss. And long with these my lips I have not touched The tan strong shoulder or the dear lips. And now, the deceased spirits in my long Disconsolate wandering along the way, I am now flying toward him as a song And I caress him with a morning ray.

Oh, how often you'll remember The sudden pain of unnamed longing — Anna Akhmatova, from "I'll erase this day from your memory," trans. A. S. Kline, White Flock (Hyperborea, 1917)

I always think about the past, it's so large and bright.

You alone were my fate, I would have done anything for you.

You haunt me still somehow, I've saved each word from you. — Anna Akhmatova, White Flock: Poetry of Anna Akhmatova . Translated by Andrey Kneller (CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform July 30, 2013)

If you were a star, I would gaze by the window till dawn

As the presence of those we love is as a double life, so absence, in its anxious longing and sense of vacancy, is as a foretaste of death.

There are perhaps only one or two things in the world which are not far more charming in desire than they are in possession.

He'd stared into her eyes, dark with confusion and unwilling passion, and for one stark, horrible instant, he'd wished to be that different man. He'd wished to be worthy of her.

I want you to want me the way I want you. I want you to come to me and tell me that. Then I want you to show me it's true. - Duke Kylemore to Verity Ashton -

He'd been unhappy, restless, irritable since leaving Surrey. He'd lived on memories of her. Her absence slowly strangled him. The instant he took Antonia in his arms, he breathed again.

He swallowed again and tightened his grip so even if she wanted to leave, she couldn't. It astonished him how difficult it was to find the one word he needed after these exquisite days. The one word he had no right to say. He forced the forbidden syllable from his tight throat. "Stay.

Throughout all those years, Gabriel had not forgotten Rowena, the beautiful duchesse de Valère. In fact, there were times he imagined his work was in tribute to her, to avenge the wrongs done to her and her family. But that time in his life was over. He was no longer the French Fox. He had a title—the rumors of his knighthood were true—and he had a little land. Now he wanted to share his life with someone—no, not someone—her. Rowena. "It

Hell," he whispered. He swept her into his arms and leaned down to claim those plump, glistening lips. Her glorious taste thundered through him. Salty and tart like a mixture of green apples and the sea. He discovered without any real surprise that he'd craved the flavor of Charlotte Warren all his life. For

Her lack of welcome couldn't dampen his happiness at seeing her. He'd never been in love before. He'd never imagined love could strike a man harder than a rock falling on his head. Harder, and with the same lack of warning. But watching the slim, golden-haired woman lit by stark gray light through the high windows, he admitted the inescapable truth. He was head over heels with Charlotte Warren. He

She blinked and with surprising reluctance, stepped apart from him. Another horrid blush stained her cheeks, and she only just stopped herself from raising a hand to touch where he'd kissed her. Her skin burned where his lips had touched.

From the first, Giles had enjoyed staying with the Talbots. They welcomed him with a generosity that he'd always known was exceptional. But envy tinged his gratitude. Because however kind this noisy, loving, exuberant clan was, however willingly they included him in their festivities, he remained an outsider. An outsider yearning after the lovely daughter of the house like grim Hades yearned after bright Persephone. Darkness hungering for irresistible light.

Because nothing but annihilation would stop him wanting Serena. Even then, he'd probably come back and haunt her.

I look forward to leaving here in a week with both pride and virtue intact." "And I look forward to nights of untold rapture in your arms, my dear Miss Forsythe.

Then she'd stared at him with those radiant blue eyes and asked him to let he go. And bugger, bugger, bugger, he'd suddenly imagined he was sodding Sir Galahad.

He curled one arm around Caro's slender waist and took her gloved hand in his, and his heart leaped with an excitement he hadn't felt since he was a stripling. It was humiliating. It was disturbing. It was unacceptable. And after this long enchantment, he acknowledged that it was inescapable.

Seeing her was like standing in sunlight after a long, hard winter, but he couldn't be easy meeting her in such surroundings. "Oh, Jonas," she said in a broken voiced started to cry. "Tesoro... sweetheart... my love," he choked out, cradling her in his arms. "Don't cry. Please don't cry.