Quotes About Longing

My father left when I was really young, but he's still living. There are things I wish I'd said that I didn't and I don't think I'll ever get the opportunity to say. He's battled addiction problems his entire life. I wish things were different. I wish there were a way my son could know him, know the good parts of him.

Romantic love, or sex, is the only good thing in a life that is being lived in a dark way.

Maybe high school would have been a good time to have a little Dylan McKay in my life.

With a heart filled with endless love for those who scorned me, I wandered far away. For many and many a year I sang songs. Whenever I tried to sing of love, it turned to pain. And again, when I tried to sing of pain, it turned to love.

Each time I reach outside my skin/I just get lonesome for what's within.

Rosie, maybe I'm a masochist, but I think the world of you. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen and you've got no idea. You think it's any fun for me to sit here being loathed by you? I'm in love with you.

I remember that feeling, that comfort, that sense of everything in its place, the rightness of it all, when the winter is loved and the summer is all the sun there is. When you want that specific moment, that time, that place, that situation, forever. You can't force it or wish it, and praying doesn't help. You wait, you keep going, you hope maybe it will come around again. That flawless equilibrium.

Lust is the craving for salt of a man who is dying of thirst.

There is a fragrance in the air, a certain passage of a song, an old photograph falling out from the pages of a book, the sound of somebody's voice in the hall that makes your heart leap and fills your eyes with tears. Who can say when or how it will be that something easters up out of the dimness to remind us of a time before we were born and after we will die?

Like Adam, we have all lost Paradise; and yet we carry Paradise around inside of us in the form of a longing for, almost a memory of, a blessedness that is no more, or the dream of a blessedness that may someday be again.

It was the upward-reaching and fathomlessly hungering, heart-breaking love for the beauty of the world at its most beautiful, and, beyond that, for that beauty east of the sun and west of the moon which is past the reach of all but our most desperate desiring and is finally the beauty of Beauty itself, of Being itself and what lies at the heart of Being.

The word longing comes from the same root as the word long in the sense of length in either time or space and also the word belong, so that in its full richness to long suggests to yearn for a long time for something that is a long way off and something that we feel we belong to and that belongs to us. The longing for home is so universal a form of longing that there is even a special word for it, which is of course homesickness

Faith is homesickness. Faith is a lump in the throat. Faith is less a position on than a movement toward, less a sure thing than a hunch. Faith is waiting. Faith is journeying through space and through time.

The sadness was I'd lost a father I had never fully found. It's like a tune ends before you've heard it out. Your whole life through you search to catch the strain, and seek the face you've lost in strangers' faces.

The Kingdom of God is where we belong. It is home, and whether we realize it or not, I think we are all of us homesick for it. -Originally published in The Clown in the Belfry and later in Secrets in the Dark

The sadness was I'd lost a father I had never fully found. It's like a tune that ends before you've heard it out. Your whole life through you search to catch the strain, and seek the face you've lost in strangers' faces.

Your father lies beneath a stone,' old Aedwen mumbles, dozing at her wheel, and Godric thinks how it's a stone as well they're all beneath. The stone is need and hurt and gall and tongue-tied longing, for that's the stone that kinship always bears, yet the loss of it would press more grievous still.

The Happy one Is to have fine senses and a fine taste.. To be accustomed to the select and intellectually best..to be blessed with a strong bold and daring soul..to go through life with a quiet eye and a firm step, ever ready for the worst as for the festival, and full of longing for undiscovered worlds and seas, men and Gods

All too violently my heart still flows toward you—my heart, upon which my summer burns, short, hot, melancholy, overblissful; how my summer heart craves your coolness.

Love in the form of longing and deprivation lowers the self regard.

I love you more than my own skin and even though you don't love me the same way, you love me anyways, don't you? And if you don't, I'll always have the hope that you do, and i'm satisfied with that. Love me a little. I adore you.

Hield mij aan't leven der mensen dit hart maar niet meer gebonden, dat van liefde niet aflaat, hoe graag zou ik mét u hier wonen!

Friedrich Hölderlin

Hälfte des Lebens Mit gelben Birnen hänget Und voll mit wilden Rosen Das Land in den See, Ihr holden Schwäne, Und trunken von Küssen Tunkt ihr das Haupt Ins heilignüchterne Wasser. Weh mir, wo nehm' ich, wenn Es Winter ist, die Blumen, und wo Den Sonnenschein, Und Schatten der Erde? Die Mauern stehn Sprachlos und kalt, im Winde Klirren die Fahnen.