Quotes About Longing

He then kissed her. It was a very long time before he let her go. When he did, she looked up at him, hurt and bewilderment on her face. "Why did you stop?" asked Tessa. "I thought you might want to breathe," said Guy carefully. "Breathe?" said Tessa, shocked. "I don't need to breathe when I'm with you.

For an instant she felt his touch on her cheek then he stepped back. There that was my ration for all eternity. People have died for less I dare say.

Would it ever, ever leave? I had become used to the ache now; it was with me all the time, and never seemed to lessen. Time was no healer, I decided, but it was a great accommodator.

It was hard to love something so much and want it to disappear at the same time

His heart; some long word at the heart. He is dying of a long word.

He did not fail in love, but he lost the joy of it [...]

I know very few young people, but it seems to me that they are all possessed with an almost fatal hunger for permanence.

Sebastian is in love with his own childhood. That will make him very unhappy.

It's awful to think that I shall probably never, as long as I live, see you dancing like that again all by yourself.

A hundred days wasted out of two years and a bit ... a day when you were not in my heart; not a day's coldness mistrust or disappointment. Never that.

But as I drove away and turned back in the car to take what promised to be my last view of the house, I felt that I was leaving a part of myself behind, and that wherever I went afterwards I should feel the lack of it, and search for it hopelessly, as ghosts are said to do, frequenting the spots where they buried material treasures without which they cannot pay their way to the netherworld.

But as I drove away and turned back in the car to take what promised to be my last view of the house, I felt that I was leaving part of myself behind, and that wherever I went afterwards I should feel the lack of it

I think that voice held him most, with its fluctuating, feverish warmth, because it couldn't be over-dreamed—that voice was a deathless song.

the room had grown smothery. He wanted to be out in some cool and bitter breeze, miles above the cities, and to live serene and detached back in the corners of his mind

His desire re-created her until she lost all vestiges of the old Jenny, even the girl who had met him at the train that morning. Silently, as the night hours went by, he molded her over into an image of love - an image that would endure as long as love itself, or even longer - not to perish till he could say, 'I never really loved her.

His heart beat faster and faster as Daisy's white face came up to his own. He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips' touch she blossomed like a flower and the incarnation was complete.

Ah, she cried, you look so cool. Their eyes met, and they stared together at each other, alone in space. With an effort she glanced down at the table. You always look so cool, she repeated. She had told him that she loved him, and Tom Buchanan saw.

Do you ever wait for the longest day of the year and then miss it? I always wait for the longest day of the year and then miss it!

It seemed that the only lover she had ever wanted was a lover in a dream.

She was feeling the pressure of the world outside and she wanted to see him and feel his presence beside her and be reassured that she was doing the right thing after all.

If I knew words enough, I could write the longest love letter in the world and never get tired

He talked a lot about the past, and I gathered that he wanted to recover something, some idea of himself perhaps, that had gone into loving Daisy. His life had been confused and disordered since then, but if he could once return to a certain starting place and go over it all slowly, he could find out what that thing was ....

in crowded rooms they would form words with their lips for each other's eyes

Youth is like having a big plate of candy. Sentimentalists think they want to be in the pure, simple state they were in before they ate the candy. They don't. They just want the fun of eating it all over again.