Quotes About Longing

Do you think you can wait - because I don't want you to stop loving me. I keep remembering us and how it was. I don't want to hurt you...not ever...

Not that memories were enough—they didn't keep you warm on a cold winter's night. They couldn't hold you when you were frightened or sad. But they were better than nothing.

You can't deny you ever loved them, love them still, even if loving them causes you pain.

Nights are the worst. You just don't know what it's like for me, trying not to think of [him]...knowing that we're going to be apart for so long. It's pure torture.

Some people never get over their first loves. They spend their whole lives trying to recapture the thrill. Sometimes, after fifty years they get back together. They meet at some reunion or other and realize they were meant to be together.

I wanted to tell him that I will never be sorry for loving him. That in a way I still do—that maybe I always will. I'll never regret one single thing we did together because what we had was very special. Maybe if we were ten years older it would have worked out differently. Maybe. I think it's just that I'm not ready for forever.

Writing is the voice that calls us from dreams, that peeks out of the corner of our eyes when we think no one is looking, the longing that breaks out hearts even when we think we should be happiest, and to which we cannot give a name.

Bhichad kar phir kabhi mile bhi nahi,ajab phool teh khile bhi nahi

Hoti rahengi mulakatein tumse Nigaaho se durr ho dil se nahi

Teri yaad chaand ki shakal mein ubhar kar aati hain

Tum chaho toh phir bhichad jaana mujhe bas phir pehle jesa kardo

Uske apne hi nahi chahte teh uski khusi woh ladki aakhir kehti rahi, Mujhe jaane do

Yeh jo mujhko paane ki talab hain tumhari Mujhe paakar tum badal jaaoge

It was as if she had thought him into existence again, as if her mind were a flask into which had been poured a measure of longing, a measure of discontent, a measure of fatigue, a dash of bitterness, and pouf, there he stood.

It can never be satisfied, the mind, never.

Next to love is the desire for love.

If sex were all, then every trembling hand Could make us squeak, like dolls, the wished-for words.

The mind can never be satisfied.

I still feel the need of some imperishable bliss.

She touched me once And life then stopped. She held my hand, My frog heart hopped. She left my mouth And formed a smile With lips that promised: "In a while." I look, I hope, I stand, a dunce— Where is the one who touched me once?

I am she who adorn'd herself and folded her hair expectantly,My truant lover has come, and it is dark.

Our image of happiness is indissolubly bound up with the image of the past.

I need love more than ever now ... I need your love, I need love more than hope or money, wisdom or drink Because slow negative death withers the world - and only yes can turn the tide

Wherever your heart rests There I will live and be blessed I've tried to line up the things I Needed to say but now my feelings just Tumble from me. I am half foolish, Half drunk with wanting you With wanting to take your hand And leap into the darkness of whatever Life will bring. Love makes me Brave and without love I'm made Nothing.