Quotes About Longing

And he left me to dreams that were anything but sweet.

And then I heard Nico's voice. It was a song I've never heard before. I struggled to make out the lyrics. "You were my hands," I heard him sing. "You were my eyes. There's nothing left to reach for now, nothing left to see.

And then he reached toward me again, this time with both arms, as though he might wrap them around me to give me some comfort. But then he stopped, bit his lip, folded his arms, and strode away.

In my imagination you're waiting lying on your side with your hands between your thighs.

He'd never called her. Wanted to. A hundred times. But every time he thought about it, his mind boiled up with every reason not to do it, every doubt he'd ever had about himself.

He wanted their worlds to pull apart and never rejoin.

She knew what Silas wanted. He wanted her to believe Amos was alive somewhere. Silas wanted help, clinging to his hope. She knew her son. For all her dislike of how much he was like his father, she knew him.

Silas was tired of living in a world where everyone and everything held its breath.

Most people give little enough real thought to their own mortality. Oh yes, they gabble on about heaven and the bosom of Abraham, but really, they are weary of life almost from the time they're born, and are only waiting for it all to end. They live their days quietly, obscurely, and underneath their daily toils, they long for oblivion.

Besides, love flourishes best in ignorance…or in absence.

To love you is her nature. But hers is a love from which no good may come. And your desire for her will lead only to cold, dark places.

And if, behind closed eyes, Cerris saw a face other than hers, a face so slightly younger, gazing at him sadly across a gulf of lost years and broken promises... Well, it would never hurt her if she never knew.

It's a longing, an aching to complete ourselves, to unite with that which makes us whole. We are longing for God the way a soldier longs for his wife faraway. It a relentless homesickness that, however desperately we try, will accept no substitutes.

El desierto] Es como una mujer [...] Seduce, atrae... Cuando lo ves por la primera vez, el desierto ofrece muchas tentaciones y luego te las va negando lentamente, repite la misma oferta, cada día te da otra vez más, casi con desperación, lo que ya te ha dado ayer. Siempre igual en su monotonía. Y uno empieza a darse cuenta de que realmente jamás se entregará

I wanted what we all want: everything. We want a mate who feels like family and a lover who is exotic, surprising. We want to be youthful adventurers and middle-aged mothers. We want intimacy and autonomy, safety and stimulation, reassurance and novelty, coziness and thrills. But we can't have it all.

Dreams are a reflection of your desires

Desire persuades us that if only we have a pleasant breath or if only we have that spacious feeling we had earlier, then we would be happy. But desire is insatiable. As soon as we get the object or experience we have been longing for, we move on to another desire, because the more we pursue desire, the more desire we experience.

It is the nature of desire not to be satisfied, and most men live only for the gratification of it.

Man is never happy, but spends his whole life striving after something he thinks will make him so

It took so long to find you...and now I don't want it to change. I want it all set in amber. I want us and nobody else in the most selfish way you can imagine. I can't help it--I'm old-fashioned. I believe marriage is between a man and a man.

Needing and loving are two different things.

Basta-me minha imortalidade,/ o fluir de meu sangue de uma para outra era,/ mas em troca de um canto quente e seguro/ daria de bom grado minha vida,/ conquanto sua agulha voadora/ não me arrastasse, feito linha, mundo afora.

Wealth is like sea-water; the more we drink, the thirstier we become, and the same is true of fame"—that's philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer, writing in 1851, more than a century and half before social media was invented and made the whole problem ten times worse.

No utopia can ever give satisfaction to everyone, all the time. As their material conditions improve, men raise their sights and become discontented with power and possessions that once would have seemed beyond their wildest dreams. And even when the external world has granted all it can, there still remain the searchings of the mind and the longings of the heart.